Love I Can Possess
by Wordmangler
Summary: This sequel to "God Help the Outcasts" (my retelling of the movie) is about how Susan deals with being a hero, fame, and the loss of being able to fit into normal society. It also looks at how two people can mean enough to each other that they are willing to ignore physical limitations merely to be together. Plus more aliens! New monsters! Bob!
1. Cake and Balloons

**FOREWORD**

Welcome to the sequel to my first story, "God Help the Outcasts." It's not completely vital to have read that (though I'd prefer you did), since this also follows on from the end of the movie, but there are a couple of characters (including in this chapter) unique to it, and it will help understand Susan's emotional journey. Which is what this story is mainly concerned with.

There will be more alien threats - both the movie and a lot of stories here seem to see them as mainly being monster hunters in the future, but for the time being I want to keep it as Monsters vs _Aliens_ rather than Monsters vs Monsters. So there will be some action for them, and Susan will finally get to go to Europe.

But in general this is going to be another character-driven piece, looking at emotions and feelings rather than action and comedy, as Susan tries to adjust to her new size and her new role. While not as bleak a situation as the first story puts her in, one of the most powerful aspects of Susan as a character to me is that, unlike other superheroes, she can never be incognito. In addition, her size is extremely physically isolating. I want to examine how she comes to terms with these issues. Especially when it comes to her feelings for her loved ones.

Again, I have tried to take as realistic a view of this fantasy world as I can, in order to make Susan's emotions and character arc as believable as possible. Naturally, comments, critiques, and reviews are most welcome...

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* * *

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**1. Cake and Balloons**

**THE** buzzer was sounding. Susan moaned, and stretched. Where was she? Her body felt stiff and heavy. Opening her eyes, she realised she was in her cell at Area 52. Or her room, rather. Had it all been a dream? Fighting the robot and the alien? Getting her freedom? Finally being able to see a point to her new life? She couldn't bear it if it had just been a dream. No, to her relief, her memories were coming back to her now. _That was remarkably scary_, Susan thought to herself as she headed for her shower. She'd sometimes had dreams in her early weeks of imprisonment about being with Derek, and they had been so lifelike that waking and seeing the cold steel walls of her cell had left her emotionally crushed for the entire day. But she need not worry about that now, she thought with satisfaction. Her eyes had been well and truly opened.

She quickly washed her hair as the warm water cascaded over her tall naked body. She was no longer concerned too much with split ends or body or bounce or any of the things that used to obsess her. Looking back, it was amazing how much time she had wasted trying to make herself pretty. And for what? For Derek? What had that got her? A broken heart, that's what. No longer. Susan decided she would not accept any man who objected if she never wore makeup. _Then again, what man could I attract?_ she thought to herself. Her new life gave her a lot of good things, first and foremost being a sense of self-worth and empowerment she had never had before, but… there were still sacrifices. Major sacrifices.

She stepped out of the shower and got dressed. She debated whether to wear the fancy new outfit Gallaxhar had dressed her in, but it wasn't really that easy to put on, and she wanted to keep it for special occasions. She might have been forced to wear it by that creepy alien, but it was also what she had been wearing when she had saved her friends, and the planet. _And the planet_… It was too big to grasp. Besides, she figured, Gallaxhar never really stood a chance. He was a delusional nutcase. How could he have ever taken over the entire damn planet? He was just like Derek—an egomaniac with delusions of grandeur and an ambition that exceeded his talent. Susan shuddered to think of what her life would have been like had she married Derek. It would have been small and limited. Whatever else happened in her life, she could not return to that existence.

So instead she got dressed in her old MCF jumpsuit, and quickly checked for e-mails. It was so nice being able to have full internet access again, complete with social media. There were quite a few new messages, but not as many as she had feared, and most of them could be ignored. After replying to a few, she headed out to the common room. The other monsters were already there.

"Where's Susan?" Bob was asking, looking around in every direction but the right one.

"Here I am," she said, sliding into her seat. "I was e-mailing my parents. They're so proud. There's been a total media blitz though. The minute they step outside they're surrounded by reporters."

"Shouldn't last long, hopefully," Link commented. "Mornin' sunshine."

"You too, Linkster," Susan replied with a huge grin.

"Good morning, my dear Major Murphy," Cockroach called. "Sleep well?"

"Wonderfully, thanks, uh, Major Cockroach," she smiled happily. "You?"

"Oh, I was fine," he said. "I'm still trying to recover from yesterday, however."

"I don't blame you," Link put in, chewing on some squid. "I thought we were dead meat this time for sure."

"You were so impressive," Susan admitted. "You and Bob, the way you just ploughed through that clone army."

"Nah, they were nothing," Link said, but his huge grin gave his true feelings away.

"But you, my dear, were… I don't know how to put it," Cockroach said. "At the end, when you saved our lives by catching that power core…"

"You'd have done the same for me," Susan smiled.

"I'd have been crushed to a thin smear," Cockroach informed her. "You were the only one who could have saved us."

"I guess it was fairly heavy," Susan admitted.

"Fairly… _fairly_ heavy?" Cockroach choked. "Uh, out of interest, just how heavy did it feel to you?"

Susan thought about it. It had definitely been very heavy, and had actually hurt a bit when it struck her, forcing her to one knee. But she had been so flooded with adrenaline at the time that the effort had barely registered—all she knew was that she had to save her friends. "Uh, about a hundred tons?" she guessed, remembering what Doc had said about lifting houses. "Two hundred?" she added, seeing him just stare at her.

"I'd estimate well over five hundred tons," Cockroach informed her gently. "I told you that you were strong, remember?"

"Five… hundred… tons?" Susan gasped. She looked at her arms. They looked no more muscular than they had ever been, which is to say not at all.

"Pretty decent. You could bench-press a Boeing," Link informed her.

"Oh my god…" Susan breathed. She made a fist, and looked at it. Then she grinned. "Cool. Just as well, too, or you guys would have been squished."

"And you," Bob noted. "You were under it."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Susan laughed. "Wow. I guess I am pretty strong now." She punched the air. "Ha! Take that, Derek Dorkle!" Then her face fell.

"You don't miss Derek, do you?" Cockroach asked.

Susan shook her head. "No, no…" she assured him. "But… I kinda miss the idea of Derek, if you know what I mean."

"I think I do," Cockroach said sympathetically.

"I don't," Bob said.

"Hush, blue dude," Link said. "She's lonely. We all are."

"I'm not," Bob told them happily. "I have you guys. I love you guys!"

Susan laughed. "Yeah, I have you guys." She was glad Bob had interrupted, as she suddenly felt reluctant to go into her feelings. Instead she thought about how strong the Doc had said she was. Five hundred tons? To be honest, she thought, that was a totally abstract number. Even benching a Boeing like Link had said—it was impossible to really grasp. She only knew that lifting the power core had felt incredibly heavy, but not heavier than she could stand. She was suddenly interested to learn exactly what her physical limitations were. Monger could set up some sort of testing facility easily enough, she knew—and would welcome the data. Even if the idea about creating super soldiers seemed to have been quietly shelved—for which she was very grateful.

* * *

After breakfast, she sat back on the couch and turned the projector screen on. As expected, the news programs were full of the previous day's events. She watched a few reports, most of which were full of futile speculation and shots of reporters standing either beneath Gallaxhar's ship or in a studio. The government was yet to release its own official statement, but there was rampant speculation on everything, not least the strange creatures that had appeared from the ship just before it exploded.

"The question remains," the news anchor was saying, showing a blurry still of the four of them hanging off the bottom of Gallaxhar's ship, taken with a very long lens, "is this the same freakish giantess that we saw just a couple of days ago fighting a massive robot in San Francisco?" The screen now showed a separate video of Susan tackling the robot, taken by someone in one of the fleeing cars. "The government and the Pentagon are not confirming anything at this stage. We have been told, however, by a source close to this new heroine, that she is in fact Susan Murphy, a native of the Modesto, California, that the UFO appeared over and who has been kept in a secret government facility for genetic experimentation. Is the army creating a new breed of super-soldiers, great titans who will literally crush the enemy? Should we be worried?"

"Now, I think that's a little too much speculation, Jim," the co-host said. "What I think we need to be focusing on is that this woman, and her even more unusual companions—can we get any clearer images than those? This one appears to be almost reptilian, and one we cannot make out any details at all about other than his blue colour—anyway, we need to remember that however they were created, they have saved the city of San Francisco from an attack that has caused billions of dollars in property damage, but luckily cost almost no casualties thanks to the prompt evacuation."

"We've got one of the people who were on the bridge when the robot attacked standing by now, Jane," the first anchor said. "Bill's out by East Beach with her now. Bill?"

"Thanks Jim. I'm out by East Beach, the nearest the government is allowing us to the collapsed bridge. We can just make out where the upper part of the mysterious alien robot projects out of the water, but it's been shielded by tarps so we can't actually see what is going on. With me here is Mrs Fay Wreigh, who was in her car with her husband Mike during the attack. Fay, can you tell us what you saw?"

"Well, we were heading out across the bridge, following the evacuation order, when a truck-trailer unit suddenly jack-knifed and blocked both lanes. I screamed. Then… I just couldn't believe my eyes. This giant woman, and I mean giant—she must have been a hundred feet tall—just reached down and lifted the truck off the car. What else has the government been keeping secret from us I wonder? What's hidden at Area 51? We have a right to know!"

"Indeed we do. Anyway, about this giant…"

"Yeah, right, the giant, okay. Yeah, we were just about to keep heading north when this great robot thing smashed into the bridge, just about killed us, and the next thing we know we're sliding off the bridge. I remember looking at my husband in fear, knowing it was the end, when this giant woman sticks out her leg and saves us, blocks our car from sliding off. All the while she's fighting the great steel claw. I'm telling you, she deserves some kinda medal for that. She saved our lives."

"Mrs Wreigh, thanks so much. Back to you, Jim and Jane."

"Well, whoever this mysterious heroine, and her even more mysterious friends, are, they've earned the thanks of a grateful city and nation. We'll have more updates on the events in Modesto as they come to hand, but I think at this stage we can safely say that the same band of unusual heroes that saved us in San Francisco was also involved." The video cut back to the shot of Susan and the others hanging off the ship. "Whoever they are, whatever their story, we salute their bravery and heroism. Now here's Rachel with sports."

The segment ended, and Susan turned the TV off.

"So, what do you think of all the hype?" Link asked, lying back on his own smaller sofa.

"Really embarrassing, to be honest," Susan admitted. "I mean, it's nice to be free again, and for the world to no longer hate us, but…"

"But what?"

"I'm still not sure how people are going to treat us. I just want to be treated as me, not something I'm not."

"Ah, but you are being treated as you, my dear," Cockroach told her. "You are being treated as a hero, as you are a hero. You may not feel like one, but by George, every one of us owes you our lives. You sacrificed any chance of getting your old life back to save ours. And we won't ever forget that."

"Come on," Susan said, "you know I would never have been able to live with myself if I had just fled. I told you that."

"That doesn't make it any less heroic, my dear. In fact it makes it more heroic."

"Well, I suppose… But, if I'm honest, I liked the feeling of confidence being Ginormica gave me. I like being strong—physically and emotionally."

"Hey, and why shouldn't you want to be stronger?" Link asked her. "You and I, we're the macho types of this gang. Strength! Power! That's where it's at, baby!"

"Watch it, Link, you'll put your back out again!" Susan called as the aquatic ape started to execute a series of kung fu-style flips. She laughed as he crashed into the table, and quickly pretended that was completely intentional.

* * *

A little later Susan was relaxing on her couch with Mark Twain, which she was reading on the oversized computer tablet Cockroach had made for her using a 60 inch LCD screen.

"Ginormica, you have a visitor," Monger suddenly announced, driving into the room in his jeep.

"A visitor?" Susan asked, astonished. They never had visitors. Ever. The entire base was so secret that the mere mention of its real name was a federal offence. She put down her tablet. "Who is it?"

"Go ahead," she heard Monger say in a quiet voice. Susan took another look at the jeep. There was a young girl sitting there with him, in a light blue summer dress. She looked a little familiar.

"Uh, Amy, right?" Susan asked, rather surprised indeed. She got down off the couch and lay on the floor so her head was as close to the ground as possible.

"Good afternoon Major Ginormica, sir. Ma'am," the little girl said. "I would like to apologize for my behaviour the other week."

"No need to apologise, Amy," Susan smiled. "I'm really sorry for scaring you so much."

"Thank you, Major," Amy said.

"Did you put her up to this, General?" Susan asked with a slight smile.

"Negative," the general told her. "She saw you on the news, apparently, and wanted to meet you properly. And I figured, what the heck." He grinned, and nudged the young girl.

"General, deep down, you're about as hard as a custard sandwich," Susan laughed. "But that is so sweet of you, Amy. I'm so glad you came, so we can get to know each other a bit better. How's your knee?"

"All better now, thank you ma'am," Amy said.

"Please, call me Susan. Everyone else does. Well, except for the general, of course."

"Regulations. Ginormica's your new official name," Monger told her.

"So, Amy, you live here on base, right?" Susan asked.

"Yes, ma—Susan," Amy said. "My daddy is a sergeant here."

"So you go to school here too?" Susan asked.

Amy nodded. "Everyone who lives on base has to stay on base. We can't go outside it. Daddy says it's to keep the country safe."

Susan pursed her lips. It had not occurred to her that the secrecy and security that restricted them to Area 52 might affect the military personnel stationed here as well. Suddenly she found herself wondering if Monger even had any family.

"Come on Amy, let's go and talk," Susan said, and smiled to encourage her.

"Uh, I… sure, great!" the little girl said.

"I'll be back to pick her up later," Monger said.

Susan gave him a salute, which he returned and drove away.

"Would you like to come to my table?" Susan asked.

Amy nodded. Then she saw how high it was.

"How do I get up?"

"I could always lift you up." Susan suggested.

After a short pause Amy nodded. "Okay. But… not too high. Or fast, please."

"Noted," Susan said with a reassuring smile. She laid her five-foot hand down, palm up, and let Amy sit on it. Cupping both hands together to form a protective bowl, she carefully lifted the tiny girl onto her table.

"There. Was that fun?" she asked.

"A bit. I guess," Amy said. "It wasn't as scary as the first time."

"I'm really sorry about that, you know," Susan said softly.

"That's okay," Amy told her. "I know you were only trying to help. I shouldn't have freaked out."

"I guess I can't blame you. Anyway, if you sit down there, at that table, I can sit down here, and we can talk," Susan said, taking her normal seat. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

"Um, let me see," she said a bit nervously. "The general said you were nearly fifty feet tall. Is that right?"

Susan nodded. "Forty-nine feet, eleven inches, to be precise."

"What's it like to be a giant?" Amy asked.

"Well… You know, to be honest, I'm still not totally sure," Susan admitted. "On the plus side, I'm much stronger, and I could save my friends, and I can totally open any jar out there. They don't stand a chance!"

"Wow, that's so cool. Sometimes I think I would like to be a giant," Amy admitted. "Sometimes I think it would be nice to be bigger and stronger than everyone. Then they couldn't tease me."

"Hey, tree-trunk legs!" Link called out. "Destroy any major landmarks today?"

"Oh, they still can," Susan said, laughing. "It's just easier to ignore them. And yeah, it helps if you can do this." She quickly grabbed Link, and gently tossed him in his pool. The amphibious ape surfaced and grinned at Amy, whose look of shock quickly turned to giggles.

Susan smiled, then looked down at Amy again.

"But sometimes I wish I was still normal sized," she went on. "So I could do a lot of things I can't now—would you believe I can't ever go a mall again? I can't go a restaurant with my friends either. And if I was your age, I couldn't go to school with them."

"But you can save the earth from an alien invasion," Amy noted. "That was fantastic. I wish I could do something like that."

"Yeah, there is that," Susan said. "Not that I did it all by myself. In fact it was really Doctor Cockroach—if he hadn't reprogrammed the computer to destroy the ship, the invasion couldn't have been stopped. All I did was save us after the ship started blowing up."

"You're far too modest, my dear," came Cockroach's voice as the insect-man walked down the steps from his lab.

Amy squealed briefly, then recovered herself. "Sorry, sir," she muttered.

"Quite all right, my child," Cockroach assured her. "The head's always a little more scary in person."

"I'm okay," Amy said, looking at him nervously out of the corner of her eye.

"Care for some tea?" he asked gently.

"Oh, that's right!" Susan exclaimed. "I'm being a bad hostess! Do you like chocolate, Amy?"

The young girl nodded.

"Great! Be back in a moment!" Susan jumped up and ran out, her footsteps thundering on the floor. Amy watched her go, her eyes wide. "Wow…."

Susan was back in a moment, carrying one of her special chocolate bars. Amy gasped. It was bigger than she was.

"Doc, got a knife?" Susan asked.

Cockroach scooted to the dining storage area, and brought out the largest knife there, a foot-long kitchen knife.

"Would you like me to cut it?" he asked.

"No, I want to try," she told him. "But thanks."

The knife was less than half as long as her fingers, but Susan managed to pick it up delicately between forefinger and thumb, and carefully slice off a small amount of chocolate, the size of her fingernail.

"Yay, I did it," she said with a grin. "Bit like trying to cut with a needle."

"Thanks so much," Amy said, as she took a small bite from her large chunk of chocolate. Cockroach handed her a cup of tea.

"Oh, I don't drink tea thank you, sir," Amy said. "I'm too young."

"My apologies," the insect man said courteously. "Susan, you want a cup?"

"Can you get us some hot cocoa instead?" the giantess asked.

"Excellent idea," Cockroach admitted, pressing the intercom buzzer by the hatch where their food was served from.

"Kitchen here. How may I serve you sir?"

"Two hot cocoas please. One super-sized, one regular."

"Coming right up, sir."

"Sir. I like that," Cockroach said. "Respect at last! I told them they would rue the day!" He cackled madly, his eyes staring.

"Chill, dude," Link scowled. "The minimum-wage drones at McDonalds would call you 'sir' too."

In a few moments the hatch opened up again, and Cockroach handed Amy a cup of hot cocoa. Susan took her own 60-oz cup, and smiled. "Ooh good, they put some marshmallows in."

"Anyway, as I was saying," Cockroach said, sipping his sweet tea. "We don't worry about who saved the Earth, who stopped Gallaxhar. We're a team."

"A team," Susan agreed.

"But it was mostly you," Cockroach added with a smile.

"I thought it was mostly me," Bob said.

"Ha. Nope, it was all Insecto," Link chuckled. "We'd have died if it weren't for him. Her. Whatever."

"Or Monger," Susan added.

Amy looked confused, and Link laughed. "We're just joshing you. Go on, drink your cocoa. I'd going to order some seaweed soup."

"But seriously, you should have seen Susan." Cockroach told her. "She was jaw-droppingly amazing. I still get goosebumps—or I would if I still had skin."

Susan blushed. As did Amy.

"I almost got her killed," the young girl said softly. "I'm really sorry about that."

"No, no, no," Susan assured her. "It wasn't your fault at all. I… I forgot for a moment just how scary... how scary I might look now." She blinked back tears, fighting to keep control, to keep the painful memories from surfacing.

"You… you really don't," Amy said. "I was just too frightened to realise. I had no idea you were here…"

"Didn't you know there were monsters here at the base?" Cockroach asked.

Amy shook her head. "Daddy never mentioned it. He wasn't even allowed to talk about his work with us. He told me later that most of the base personnel had never even seen any of you. He said your area was the most top secret of all."

"I suppose that explains the panic," Cockroach mused. "Idiots," he muttered to himself under his breath.

"So were you always a—a giant?" Amy asked.

Susan shook her head. "A month ago I was only five foot six. I was totally normal. Completely average."

"Wow. So all of a sudden you just grew? Like overnight?"

"Even faster," Susan told her. "I was in church about to be married."

Cockroach whipped out his tablet. "Here's the footage."

"Yikes!" Amy exclaimed, looking at it. "Did it hurt?"

"Hurt?" Susan asked, surprised. "No, not a bit." Her eyes glazed over. "No, not physically. Emotionally, mentally… Yeah, it hurt. A lot."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you sad," Amy said.

"Oh, no, no, it's not that," Susan said, wiping her eyes. "No, I'm okay. But to be honest, it's not been easy. But it does have its good parts," she hastened to add. "I feel good about myself."

"Could I ask you something?" Amy said, a little nervously.

"Sure."

"Why is your hair white?"

"I honestly don't know," Susan admitted. "Something to do with this special stuff inside me that makes me so big. I used to have chestnut hair. But now I quite like this. Any ideas, Doc?"

"I'm afraid I have no idea why your hair is white," Cockroach told her. "It doesn't make sense. But then almost nothing about your physical transformation does, apart from your voice. And even that…"

"What about your voice?" Amy asked.

"It's quite low, isn't it?" Susan asked.

Amy nodded.

"That's because my voice box is bigger, like your father's is bigger than yours."

"It's quite a nice voice," Amy said. "It's low, but you don't sound like a man at all."

"To my relief," Susan laughed. "Can you imagine me with James Earl Jones' voice? He's the guy that did Darth Vader's voice in Star Wars."

"Him?" Amy giggled. "That would be funny!"

"No, Amy, _I_ am your mother!" Susan joked.

A musical chime echoed through the room.

"Oh good, lunchtime," Link said. "I'm starved."

"Why? All you did all morning was watch the telly," Cockroach noted. "While I was hard at work."

"You just sat in your chair," Link pointed out.

"Thinking, my dear chap," Cockroach told him, pointing to his head. "Exercising the old noggin."

"What about? You're not trying to shrink Ginormica still are you?"

Cockroach shook his head. "Before Amy arrived, I was looking over some of the data from the wreckage of the robot," he said. "Monger's given me full access now. Or at least he says he has. There is a lifetime of work there. Several lifetimes. Not to mention the crashed ship. I still want to get access to the actual wreckage, though. Who knows what I could create!" He let out a loud maniacal laugh, and Amy jumped.

"Sorry, my dear," Cockroach apologized. "Force of habit."

"Amy, you'll stay for lunch, won't you?" Susan asked.

"Ooh, do!" Bob cried. "There's going to be cake! And balloons! And bunny rabbits!"

"No, Bob, no bunny rabbits," Cockroach told him. "Not after last time."

"Greetings, monsters," came Monger's powerful voice as he stepped off the elevator. "Thought I'd join you for lunch."

Cockroach and Link stared.

"Join us? You've never joined us for lunch," Cockroach said.

"Yeah, what gives?" Link asked.

"Got some important news for you later," he stated. "Anyway, today's a special lunch. Dr Cockroach has told me what he and Link promised Bob, and by heavens, that's what we're gonna deliver!"

Taking out his walkie-talkie, he barked an order. The food hatch opened up, revealing a cake the size of a small car, and at the same time, a panel in the ceiling slid open and several dozen red, white and blue balloons drifted down.

For once in his life, Bob was speechless.

* * *

**NOTES**: East Beach is a real location in SF that has a nice view of the GGB-or, in this case, what used to be the GGB.

I wanted to start out with a light, pleasant scene that helps to heal one of the wounds Susan suffered in my first story. So there is no actual plot here, just character interaction. The first few chapters deal with the after-effects of the previous story, which I wanted to deal with before we move onto the new one. I made her being reading Mark Twain as an accessible classic, just a way to show that Doc has been educating her and expanding her horizons as I suggest in another vignette.

If you search YouTube for **Ginormica Deep Voice Test**, you can see a very quick 'n' dirty test I did to try and get a more realistically low voice for Susan. The fact that her voice remains unchanged is one of the minor things that bug me about the movie's depiction of her size.

[slightly edited on 5/5/13]


	2. Engineering Issues

**2. Engineering Issues**

Susan took a final bite of the chocolate sponge cake, and sighed with contentment. Thanks to her new size, the cake's texture was now the most wonderfully silky smooth, finely delicate one she had ever had. She had missed cakes, as none of their meals ever included desserts. But she had regular supplies of chocolate and ice cream, and a small commercial refrigerator in her room for snacks.

Monger stood up. "Monsters, you've done this old man proud. You've earned a good long rest. But not right now. There's a reason I joined y'all for lunch, and it wasn't the cake and balloons. Or not only the cake and balloons. I have some very important news for you all. We're off to Washington, DC!"

"What is it, General?" Susan asked curiously.

"In the name of the United States Congress, the President of these United States has decided to award you all with the Presidential Medal of Freedom. For, you know, an especially meritorious contribution to the security or national interests of the United States or world peace, by which I mean taking on an entire alien army and saving the whole damn planet."

"Wow," Susan gasped. As did the others.

Amy clapped, and Susan bowed her head gratefully.

"The Presidential Medal of Freedom?" Cockroach asked. "Me? Us? But I'm not even an American citizen."

"Ya don't have to be," Monger informed him. "It's open to anyone."

"Well, it's not quite a Victoria Cross, but I think I can live with it," Cockroach stammered, his antennae quivering like mad.

"Most generous of you, Cockroach," Monger noted sarcastically. "Ginormica, your parents have been invited as well, and will attend the official ceremony."

"Oh that is so amazing!" Susan cried. "Are we going to pick them up on the way?"

"Negative—they'll be flying a civilian aircraft. First class, though. You'll see them in DC. And I have some other news for you in particular, Ginormica," Monger added with a grin. "Apparently, Ghirardelli heard you like chocolate—can't imagine who gave them that idea—and have offered you a lifetime supply of chocolate as thanks for saving their home town of San Francisco. They are going to create a special size bar, five feet long, called the 'Ginormibar,' and each month deliver three new ones with a different flavour. Gap and Levi Strauss both want the honour of supplying you with clothing. Oh, and George Lucas also wants to meet with you, since you're from the same home town. I think he wants to make a movie about you—about Ginormica, and all that. Apparently Reese Witherspoon is keen to play you. "

"Isn't she a bit short?" Susan asked, stunned by all the offers and news.

"Nothing they can't fix at ILM," Monger assured her. "Dreamworks Animation is also interested."

"Avoid them though," Cockroach warned her. "They'll just turn it into a silly comedy."

"Innit nice being a hero for once," Link smirked. "Would you believe Coco Beach Resort actually _wants_ me back? They've offered me a free condo and a pile of cash to be their official mascot character."

"That's a negative on that," Monger informed him. "Serving members of the United States military are forbidden from public endorsements of private companies."

"Bugger," Link said, using one of Cockroach's favourite epithets.

"We leave this evening," Monger told them. "The ceremony will be held on the White House lawn tomorrow, and a special tent will be set up on the National Mall for Ginormica to stay in."

"What about Insecto?" Link asked. "Where's he…she gonna stay?"

Monger looked a bit embarrassed. "I'm afraid he… I mean she's going to have to stay home," he admitted. "She's just too big. Sorry, Link. She's not eligible for a medal anyway, apparently."

"She won't mind," Susan said, trying to cheer Link up. "I'm sure she'd much prefer some special treat to eat. Maybe a lake of honey or something."

"Yeah, maybe. I guess so. Still sucks," Link grouched. "Monsters still getting discriminated against…" He slunk off to Insectosaurus's room.

"Ginormica, we've been busy creating a dress uniform for you," Monger said. "We'd like you to try it on, as there may be some adjustments required."

"Sure," Susan agreed.

Monger coughed, his cheeks a little pink. "And, erm, we have managed to include a few more items of, er, feminine underthings you might like." He gestured vaguely towards his medal-filled chest.

"You finally got around to getting me a bra?" Susan laughed.

"The, ah, engineering issues were, uh, a little harder than anticipated," Monger admitted.

"I'm not surprised," Cockroach noted. "It can be hard enough designing for a normal bust, let alone one that's nearly thirty feet around. There's some major engineering issues to work out. Who designed it? I'd love to have a chat with them…"

"Cockroach?"

"Yes, General?"

"Stop talking about women's underwear. There's a young lady present."

"I apologise, my dear," Cockroach said, with a small courtly bow in Amy's direction.

"That's okay, sir," Amy said. "I'm going to need to know about them one day anyway."

"Okay, Miss Amy, I think it's time to head back," Monger told the little girl.

"Uh, okay Mr General sir," Amy replied. She looked at Susan. "Congratulations on the medal. All of you. And thank you for having me for lunch."

"Any time, Amy. I mean it," Susan said happily.

Amy looked down at the floor, twenty five feet below. "Uh, could you, uh… carry me down?"

"Sure," Susan smiled. "Hop on."

Amy climbed onto Susan's palm, holding her thumb tightly. "You can go a little higher this time if you'd like," she said, a little nervously.

Susan grinned widely. "Ready? Up we goooo!"

"Yeeeeeee!" Amy clung on tightly as Susan rapidly brought her up to her full height, and then stretched up, holding the small girl more than sixty feet above the floor. Then she brought her arm down in a wide swooping arc, stopping by Monger's jeep, Amy shrieking in joy the entire time.

"That was so mega cool!" Amy shouted. "Wow! You're so lucky to be a giant!"

"No, you're so lucky to know a giant," Susan told her. "And I'm lucky to know you too. Friends?"

"You bet! Shake on it!" the girl exclaimed, holding out her hand. Susan let her grab her finger, and shake it gently. Amy hopped in the jeep, and Monger drove off after saluting them.

"Sweet kid," Link commented.

"Yeah, she really is," Susan said. "I always wanted a little girl like her, one day.… Now I guess I never will…. Excuse me," she suddenly said, and headed for her room.

"What'd I say?" Link asked.

"Not your fault, my amphibious friend," Cockroach said sadly. "It's just that she can never have children."

"Huh? Why not?" Link asked. "Oh…" he said, realising.

"It's not even just that," Cockroach explained. "Even artificial insemination won't work. Everything inside her has grown too. The scale is just too incompatible. Conception is simply not possible."

"Ah. Well, I'm off to watch the game," Link said, cracking his neck as he stretched. "I've decided to root for the 49ers now, since we saved their city and all. Even if they are useless."

"Enjoy your baseball," Cockroach said. "Or basketball. Or whatever. Why you bloody Americans never learned to play cricket I'll never understand…" He headed back to his lab, but his attention was wandering. He kept thinking about Susan. Every time she was unhappy, it felt like someone was twisting his heart. He couldn't bear to see her sad. Not after all the sadness she had already experienced, and when she deserved to be so happy.

Susan shut the door to her room and took a deep breath. She was not going to fall apart. Lots of people didn't have children. Lots couldn't. It was sad, but then again, there weren't any good candidates for the father anyway. It certainly wasn't going to be Derek now.

"Wait until you find your Prince Charming before worrying about children," Susan told herself. "First things first."

She glanced around for her new uniform and found it on the floor, neatly folded. And there was a bra as promised. She picked it up and took a look. It was dark blue, and not as lacy or delicate as she would have liked, but at least it wasn't a granny bra. She carefully slipped her jumpsuit shirt off and tried the bra on.

"Ow, that pinches," she muttered. She took it off, and saw that the side tension was adjusted by tiny ratchets, too small for her adjust. She slipped it back on, then headed out to the main room, back to the table.

"Doc, can you fiddle with this?" she asked, gesturing to her bra.

Cockroach swung around in his chair, his eyes and jaw dropped open, and he swung right back again.

"No, no, I really have no skills in that area," he muttered quickly, his antennae quivering like mad.

"Oh don't be silly, Doc," Susan said. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You can't see anything. It's no more risqué than a bikini. I just would like to see if you can't loosen the tension on the sides a bit."

Cockroach swallowed hard as he looked up at her lightly tanned stomach, her large breasts nestled in the deep blue bra. She was more gorgeous than he had imagined. It was going to be very hard indeed to keep his mind on what he was supposed to be doing. He slipped his shoes off so as not to track dirt over her skin, and took a deep breath.

"Come on, don't be shy, Doc," Susan called down encouragingly.

Nervously, slowly, he climbed up the bare arm she proffered, up to her shoulder, where he scuttled around to the area of the bra underneath her left arm.

"Oh, that tickles!" Susan laughed. "You've got cold feet!"

"Sorry, m'dear," he mumbled, overwhelmed by being so close to her. Touching her soft skin, seeing the gentle rise of her breasts, being so close he could breathe in her scent…"Concentrate, you bloody idiot," he told himself as he examined the construction. Each section of the chest band was kept together by a series of torsion cables of twisted elastic from bungee cords. It was the work of a moment to loosen them slightly.

"How's that?" he called up.

"Hold tight," Susan called down, and reached inside her bra with her other hand, shifting her left breast around. Cockroach's heart rate shot through the roof.

"A little more, please," Susan asked.

"How's that?" he called up a moment later, his voice quavering. Susan cupped her bra breast, making a minor adjustment.

"Great, thanks. Can you do the other side the same?"

"Love to," Cockroach said. "I mean, no problem," he added quickly. He scooted around the back of her bra strap, doing his best to remain on the strap itself. At the far side, he took a deep breath, and tried to tell himself he was just making adjustments to a large machine. It didn't help much.

"Are you all right, Doc?" Susan called.

"Uh, yes, fine," he called back.

"Okay, it's just that you seem to be shaking a bit. I was worried you didn't have a good grip."

"It's just, uh, that I don't want to tighten it by mistake," he told her.

Susan laughed. "You're not embarrassed are you? You really don't need to be. I'm not."

"Uh, no, yes, I mean, yes, no, not embarrassed," Cockroach stuttered. "There, that's got it!"

Susan reached under her bra and shifted her breast. Cockroach saw the smooth creamy flesh bulge against the bra edge and swallowed hard. Compared to this, defeating the brain of Gallaxhar's ship had been almost relaxing.

"You're a genius, Doc. You got a lot of experience with women's underwear?" she teased.

"Ah, no no no no, I assure you," Cockroach said, taking a flying leap onto the tabletop. He grabbed his shoes and scurried up to his lab.

"Well, you have an expert touch," Susan told him, blowing him a kiss before quickly heading back to her room, suddenly feeling very embarrassed. Sure, there was nothing really risqué in what she had done—the bra was completely opaque and actually hid more than her normal bikini—but she had realised while he was adjusting it that even if she wasn't embarrassed, he was. Why she had insisted he keep going she really had no idea—had she been unconsciously trying to get him to see her as a woman, as attractive, rather than as an intimidating giantess? She certainly didn't want to be a tease, especially to Doc. But he was just so…so darned gentlemanly about everything she sometimes couldn't resist. And she felt so comfortable about him, so able to be open, hiding nothing, knowing he would never abuse her trust. Suddenly she found herself thinking seriously for the first time that she would have preferred to be have been engaged to Cockroach rather than Derek.

"No, no, don't go down that path, Susie Q," she told herself. "Face facts: you aren't going to have a physical relationship with anyone, ever. You accepted this. You knew it. You are stronger now. So stop wishing you could. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You're Ginormica. You're strong."

Susan stood by her door, leaning against it. Part of her wanted to lie down on her bed and drown herself in her tears, the way she used to do so often in the bare grey cell of her prison. It was always so easy to give into self-pity and despair. But instead she took a series of deep breaths, then went to her bathroom, where she looked at herself in the mirror. She stared into her blue eyes, almost daring herself to cry. Then she splashed a bit of cold water on her face and started to try her new formal uniform on. That at least was quite a good fit. Not a huge surprise, she realised, considering the many detailed scans that had been taken of her body. Like her normal uniform, the buttons were largely for show and velcro was used to hold it together, being easier to work with at her scale. She finished putting it on, and looked at herself in her small mirror. It made her look very different.

"Major Susan Murphy, Monster Force, United States Army, at your service!" she said, saluting her image. Her image saluted right back at her, looking strong and confident. A confidence Susan wished she really felt.

.

* * *

**NOTES:** I debated a lot about precisely which medal to give them. Initially, I was going to give them the Medal of Honour, since they did after all save the planet. But then I was researching Medal of Honour winners, and not only are a disturbing fraction awarded posthumously, the danger Our Heroes were in never really seemed to strike me as that extreme (even in my slightly darker retelling). So I decided the highest civilian award of the US was better: Monger's explanation of why is the official explanation for its award. Also, it may be awarded to members of the military, and is not restricted to US citizens. And, more crucially, it has a far smaller fatality ratio.  
Ghirardelli is of course the famous SF-based chocolate manufacturer (even if they are now owned by a faceless multinational conglomerate), and Levi Strauss and Gap are both SF-headquartered. I looked up the Wikipedia list of companies based in SF to see what I could award Susan... I couldn't actually find any regulations about members of the US military not being allowed to shill, but figured if there wasn't, there should be.  
The Art of MvA makes it clear that Insecto is definitely female. So I have made the change here.  
And I just like gently torturing Cockroach every now and then...  
[Posted Feb. 10, 2013]


	3. Circus on the Ellipse

**3. A Circus on the Ellipse**

A few hours later, Susan and the rest of the Monster Force joined Monger by the new air transport, a modified C-5M Super Galaxy with a higher roofline, obtained by removing the upper deck, and officially designated MF-1.

"Nice," Link commented. "Pretty beefy machine."

"I like the green colour," Bob commented. "Goes with my scales."

"That's Link's scales," Susan laughed. "And no, it wasn't painted to match him—or you."

"Incidentally, my dear, you know you could get underneath that plane and lift the entire thing, with us inside?" Cockroach commented to her.

"No way…" Susan breathed. This whole plane? It was huge! No, that was insane. Wasn't it? She shook her head. It didn't matter, as Monger would have a fit if she tried anyway. But it was very sweet of the Doc to always try and make her feel stronger.

She bent down low and crawled inside the narrow cargo compartment, where a long series of mattresses had been laid out for her. There was also a pillow and a huge blanket made of several large ones neatly stitched together. The other monsters had large padded seats arranged around a table near Susan's head so they could all talk together easily.

"You know, I've never even been to the East Coast," Susan admitted.

"You'll love DC," Cockroach assured her. "I've been there several times. The Smithsonian is the world's biggest and best museum, much as it pains me to admit anything could be better than the British Museum."

"Well, I wasn't ever going to do a lot of museum visiting," Susan admitted. "And especially not now. But I'd like to check out the Mall, the Lincoln Memorial, that sort of thing."

"I think you could manage to squeeze into the Lincoln Memorial," Cockroach mused. You'd have to duck to enter, of course. But inside you could stand erect with room to spare."

"We'll have to run it by Monger," of course," Link noted.

"Why? I could just stroll down there," Susan suggested.

"Well, to be frank my dear, there'd be too many tourists there—remember, anyone you step on by mistake is going to be crushed to a pulp immediately."

"Oh. Yeah." Susan fell silent.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Cockroach said, going over and patting her arm.

"I know," Susan said. "I'm not hurt, really. It's just hard to remember sometimes how easy it would be for me to harm people. Monger was right, you know. I'm a danger. Look, I think I want some sleep now, guys," she added.

"We'll be landing in a few hours," Link noted.

"I just want a nap," Susan called, turning over.

"Okay fellas, we're outa here," Link told the others, ushering them to the smaller separate cabin at the front where Monger and the other officials were riding.

Susan wasn't tired however. She just wanted to be alone and be able to think quietly. She was very nervous about visiting Washington, and especially about meeting the President. And about being around all those people. Monger had assured her that security would be extremely tight, especially since the President would be involved, but that wasn't her worry. It wasn't even the reaction of the people as such, though she hoped there wouldn't be too much shock. There was some concern about stepping on people, and Susan decided to lift her feet as little as possible so nobody could accidently get under them, but, more than anything, she was wondering how isolated and freakish she would feel, surrounded by all those normal-sized people. It would be like playing with dolls….

* * *

"We're coming in to land," Monger announced after about five hours. "Buckle up. Ginormica, wake up."

"I'm awake, General," Susan said, rolling over again as the other monsters took their seats for landing.

"We'll be coming into land at Ronald Reagan National—what a great name—and taxi to the north end. Ginormica, traffic has been diverted from the George Washington Memorial Parkway—another great name—so you will follow us along that road, over the 14th Street Bridge, and up past the Thomas Jefferson—liberal that he was—Memorial, where a tent has been set up for you in the Ellipse."

"I've no idea where these roads are, so I'll just follow you guys," Susan said.

"Very well, but don't go wandering off," Monger ordered her.

"This is the captain speaking. We will be landing in five minutes."

Susan braced herself for landing. The new airlifter had a few windows along the side, and she got a sudden thrill as she caught sight of the Lincoln Memorial and Washington Monument illuminated, with the dark Mall stretching out to the Capitol Building at the far end.

* * *

"Major Freer!" came a harsh, gravelly voice from the walkie-talkie.

The grizzled officer waiting at the edge of the apron held it to his ear. "Sir?"

"We're coming into land, Major—just relax, and remember these are honoured guests. Full protocols will be observed."

"Yes sir General Monger sir!" Major Freer shut off his walkie-talkie and took a deep breath. "Form up!" he called to the line of soldiers waiting at attention. He wandered to the front, standing next to his aide.

"What do you think they'll be like, sir?" the aide asked quietly.

"Heroes," Freer said. "That's all you need to know."

"Yes sir." The aide fell silent as MF-1 slowly came to a stop in front of them.

"That is one big damned plane," Freer breathed. He held his breath as the entire bow of the giant aircraft slowly opened up. He'd seen the news programs, read the dossiers, studied up on each of these monsters in preparation, but now that he was about to be face to face with them, he found his mouth was very dry.

First out was a jeep, driven by the famous General Monger. Or the now-famous general, the major corrected himself, considering that until a few days ago his very existence had been rated Above Top Secret. The jeep was followed by three very unusual figures. A thin man with a bulbous insect-like head and eyes the size of dinner plates, a tall and powerful green-scaled primate of some sort walking on his knuckles, and an amorphous blue mass with a single staring red eye. They were like nothing he had ever encountered, but he quickly recovered and saluted them.

"Welcome to Washington, General Monger, sir, majors!" he called out. "My name is Major Freer, and I will be your liaison officer for your stay in our nation's capital."

"At ease, Major," Monger said, snapping off a quick salute. "This is Major Link, Major Roach, and Major Bicarbonate."

"I am honoured to meet you all…" Freer started off saying, just as he had rehearsed. Then he gasped. From the interior of the huge aircraft, a massive figure in dark grey fatigues was climbing out. The giantess then stood and stretched to her full height, and Freer's jaw dropped. None of the reports had prepared him for the true scale of Ginormica, the Hero of San Francisco. Or the sweet expression on her face as she bent down on one knee and saluted him.

"And this, of course, is Major Ginormica—I mean Major Murphy. Try not to stare too much," Monger told him.

"Yes sir. Sorry sir," Freer said.

"But feel free to admire us," Link joked.

"The entire nation—the entire world does, Major Link," Freer promptly responded.

"Thanks for your welcome, Major," the giantess told him in a deep, resonant voice that was still completely female. "I must say, I'm rather nervous."

"This is my aide, Captain Sackler," Freer said. "I've assigned her to be your personal aide during your stay."

"It will be my honour, Major!" Sackler said, snapping a salute.

"Thanks, Captain," Susan said, returning the salute. "Please, call me Susan."

"No, she won't call you Susan," Monger growled. "She's too well trained for that. Don't try and pressure her."

"Oh, okay," Susan said, her face registering her disappointment. "Sorry, Captain."

"Quite all right, ma'am," Sackler said. "If you would come this way, you can step over the sound barrier onto the Parkway. Please wait there. We will join you shortly."

"Sure," Susan said, quickly returning the captain's salute when she spotted it. It was only a few steps to the high concrete wall that separated the end of the runway from the road, and in another couple of steps she was standing on the blocked-off road. There were already some military and police units there, who were keeping well back, and she did her best to ignore them as she looked around. Not that there was much to see at night. Lights of buildings, a large marshy lake, and of course the airport behind her.

In a few moments the others caught up to her, and she carefully followed them into the central city. From the bridge over the Potomac she spotted the Lincoln Memorial, lit up, and then the Jefferson Memorial. The route was lined with police and army vehicles and soldiers, the flashing lights of the police cars sending waves of blue and red light over everything. Susan found it all utterly surreal. In a few more minutes she was out on the great broad swath of the National Mall, looking up at the Washington Monument. It towered far above her, eleven times her height. Off to the right she could see the US Capitol Building, illuminated a cool bluish white, standing like a sentinel at the end of the Mall.

When they reached Constitution Ave, she spotted her tent, set up on the Ellipse with the White House just beyond. Susan nearly laughed out loud. It was clearly a circus tent, in red, white and blue, and there were a number of smaller military tents near the entrance. Searchlights lit up the area in front, and the entire place was swarming with various branches of security, but they all made a wide clear space for Susan.

"Welcome to DC, Major," Captain Sackler called up, parking her jeep and indicating for Susan to follow. "Is this your first time here, ma'am?"

Susan nodded. "My first time on the East Coast."

"I've been posted out here for ten years now," the captain told her. "Working in the Pentagon. We don't see a lot of action here."

"This looks like a major operation, at any rate," Susan muttered, feeling rather embarrassed. She would much rather have been housed in a normal hotel, but was acutely aware that that was no longer an option.

"These tents here are for the other members of M-Force," Major Freer informed them all. "For security reasons, we'd prefer you all to stay together."

"Cool, a camp-out," Susan exclaimed. "Do we get a campfire and marshmallows?" she joked.

"No open fires permitted. There will be no marshmallows provided. Breakfast will be served at oh-seven thirty hours. Some light refreshments have been provided in your tents. I shall leave Captain Sackler with you, Major Murphy, to see to any feminine wants or other needs that you may have. Good night. General, might I have a quick word?"

Freer and Monger wandered off, and the four monsters found themselves alone. Or about as alone as they could get surrounded by a small army.

"So, what about those snacks?" Link asked, looking hungry.

"If you would care to follow me, Major Link, Major Roach, Major…Bicarbonate," Sackler said primly, "I will show each of you to your quarters, where you will find an array of refreshments carefully selected to meet your dietary requirements."

"You'll like it, Doc," Bob said. "I heard Washington DC was full of trash."

"That's called Congress, Bob," Cockroach said. "Susan, my dear, I shall see you in the morning."

Susan was left alone. She felt as if hundreds of eyes were staring at her, and wondered if she was allowed to go into her tent already or if she should wait for her guide. Sackler seemed very stiff and formal, and Susan was not too happy that the first new woman she had had a chance to talk to since her capture nearly a month ago was not proving to be very conversational.

She decided to sit on the grass, to lower her viewpoint and make her feel less exposed. It was a little tricky tucking her legs into the space left between the tents for the other monsters and Monger, but she felt much more comfortable. Still very much observed, however. Nobody made it obvious, but they were watching. On all sides. It was much more so than in the monster containment facility—in fact, the new common room, Monger had assured them, was only monitored by computers. Susan rather wished she was back there, with her friends, safe and secure. She was feeling very nervous about the next day…

She was interrupted in her reverie by Captain Sackler.

"Ah, Major Murphy, ma'am, if you would care to follow me, I shall show you what we have prepared for you."

Susan carefully got to her feet, and followed the captain into the circus tent through a flap that forced her to almost bend double. But once inside she could stand up, and move around freely.

"We have prepared a sleeping area, over there, a storage chest for your clothing and accessories, and, on this side, a shower and toilet unit."

Susan looked over. Standing on a plastic base raised above the ground, a massive square shower head two feet on each side was connected to what looked like a fire hose.

"We have connected it to the mains," Sackler explained. "A pump provides water pressure, and there is a hot water heater. The system is only temporary, and you will need to shower in no more than five minutes, ma'am."

"Five? And I thought ten was pushing it," Susan sighed.

"This is the toilet," Sackler explained next. "Same system as standard portable toilets, using chemicals. For a couple of days, this will be sufficient. Here is a refrigerator, containing five gallons of mineral water, as well as some refreshment items that have been selected to suit your needs. Do you have any questions, Major?"

"Uh, no, I guess… no, no thank you," Susan said, feeling a little bewildered. "Thanks so much. It's just like a sort of strange hotel. Except I guess I don't need to tip you, though."

"No, of course not," Sackler said, and Susan caught the faintest hint of a smile. "It's an honour, major."

"Well, thanks for everything. It's pretty late, however, so I'm going to get some sleep."

"Good night, Major. I will see you in the morning."

Relieved to be finally alone, and away from any prying eyes, Susan carefully stripped off her clothes, mindful of the low headroom towards the edges. She had a very quick shower, just to freshen up, and then lay down in bed. She was acutely aware of the quiet sounds of the camp filtering through the thin canvas walls: the cells at the monster facility had been quite soundproof, and nights there were passed in utter silence. Something Susan had found very unnerving at the start of her incarceration. She had sometimes had nightmares about being buried alive, entombed alone in a cold, silent grave, deep in the earth where no one would ever find her again. On those nights, she would often wrap her sheet around her and pad out into the darkened common room to find Cockroach still awake, working on some bizarre experiment. They had spent many nights just sitting and talking quietly for an hour or two, discussing her fears and hopes. And when they finished, Susan would always be able to go back to bed and dream of happier times.

* * *

**NOTES: **The Lockheed C-5 Galaxy is the largest military aircraft, and I have removed its upper deck to try and fit Susan in. The aircraft shown in the movie, of course, is vastly larger than any in existence. In reality, as I noted earlier, she would have to lie down or remain hunched over. And yes, she could lift it, fully loaded, quite easily.

Susan's route to the Mall is done based on Google Street View. Makes research really easy. I've been to DC a couple of times myself, but Google is good for getting the exact details correct. I like writing Monger as a hard-bitten conservative anti-hippy, anti-"liberal" type guy who is actually at heart very open-minded after years of dealing with weird beings.

I think that although Monger calls Susan by her monster name, now that she has been given her freedom and an officer's commission, he would refer to her as "Major Murphy" instead. I may change this in a future revision.

Major Freer and Captain Sackler's names are pinched from the Freer and Sackler Galleries along the Mall.

Susan's massive two foot a side shower head actually exists and can be bought.

Not a lot happens in this chapter - it just a description of some of the possible logistics involved, as I didn't really want to immediately start off in DC. Nor will I be able to keep posting daily. I have done up to Chapter Ten, but some need revising and rewriting, and there is very little beyond the basic beats following Chapter Eleven. The hard part isn't so much working out where I want to take Susan, but in figuring out how to get there.

Anyway, reviews and comments most welcome, as always. I love to hear what everything thinks, even if they think it stinks...

[Posted 11-Feb-13]


	4. A Grateful Nation

**4. A Grateful Nation**

Susan woke a little before her alarm. The tent interior was well lit with the rays of the morning sun shining through the canvas, and she could hear various sounds from outside as the rest of the personnel stationed on the Ellipse began their day.

She tried out the portable toilet, then had a shower. She would have preferred a much longer one to get really clean, since she was going to meet the President, but had to make do. A very quick wash of her hair, then she dried using the stack of towels prepared for her.

Monger had organised some basic makeup for her a while back, and she quickly put some on. Most days she no longer bothered, but after all, she told herself for about the fiftieth time, today she was going to meet the President. The foundation and eye shadow were easy enough, but she had to apply the lipstick with an outsize Chinese calligraphy brush, and for her nail polish she found it easiest to use a smallish paint roller. Then she dressed carefully in her new formal uniform, and headed outside.

"Ah, good morning, Major," came Sackler's officious voice. "Breakfast will be served in your tent soon. Following that, we have a briefing on how the day will proceed. General Monger has agreed to allow you to be interviewed by Dale Litterman in the afternoon, then we will have a run-through of the ceremony at three, followed by the actual ceremony at five. It will be held in the Rose Garden, in consideration of your, ah, height. That will be followed by a reception where you will be able to meet the President more informally."

"Yikes," Susan said, feeling very overwhelmed. "It's even more managed than my wedding day was."

"Hopefully so, ma'am," Sackler said. "It's rather more important."

"Too damned organized, if you ask me," Link growled as Susan pouted. "Morning, Giny," he called up.

"Giny?" Susan asked.

"Short for 'Ginormica'," he explained.

"You could always call me Susan, you know," she said.

"Yeah, nah," he grinned up at her.

"I'll stomp on you," Susan threatened, hovering a massive foot above his head.

"You've already stomped on me," Bob noted. "It was fun!"

"Fun for you," Susan shot back. "I slipped over. It's really weird falling when you're my height. Seems to take ages."

"Naturally," Cockroach informed her, joining them. "It takes your head longer to fall from fifty feet than it does from five feet."

"Yeah, well it feels weird," Susan repeated. "Captain Sackler, when will my parents be here?"

"Their flight arrives in a few hours, Major," Sackler informed her. "They will be staying at the Watergate, and a limo will be sent for them in plenty of time."

"Thanks, Captain. I can't wait to see them."

"Your schedule today does not permit any time to meet with them until the awards ceremony, but you are free to spend time with them tomorrow when we tour the National Mall."

"Okay, thanks," Susan said. It was a pity, but still…better than nothing, she decided.

"Ah, breakfast is served, majors," Sackler informed them, checking her watch. "It is in your tent, Major Murphy."

"Thanks," Susan said, heading there. She found it a relief to be away from all the people; just her and her other monster friends. There was the familiar bowl of oatmeal, with milk and sugar to taste, and a large cup of tea. It reminded her of her very first meal with the monsters, which seemed like another lifetime ago now. In a sense, she realised, it was.

"You know, in a weird way, I kinda miss our old life," she mused, poking at her porridge. "Our quiet life, the mindless ways we would pass the time. Swimming, talking, playing silly games together, weird experiments that never worked. The way it was just us, together, in our own little world. Now… now the whole world is looking at us."

"Camaraderie in adversity," Cockroach informed her. "A small, isolated group of people forced to survive a hostile environment together. There's nothing like it. In hindsight, anyway—tends to be not so much fun at the time. But don't worry. The world will move on, find a new flavour of the month, and forget about us. The government was wrong when they thought hiding us away would make the world no longer concerned with us. People just don't care that much in the first place."

"That's real cynical, Doc," Link retorted. "At least they won't be shooting at us again."

"I hope not," Susan said, biting her lip.

Cockroach looked at her, his heart heavy. He was the only one there who knew just how badly that incident had affected Susan. "You're right—the good does outweigh the bad, of course. No doubt."

"Hey, even the bad was good because of you guys," Susan told them with a smile, not wanting to bring anyone down. Not today. Today was a day to celebrate being monsters—being heroes.

* * *

After a fairly tedious briefing, and a bland lunch, Susan was standing nervously off to one side of the Ellipse where an outdoor, split-level studio had been quickly built, using a theatre set. There was a huge chair in the middle, with a raised platform beside it on which another chair and desk were placed. Cameras and lights were suspended from cranes. Two assistants working from cherry-pickers were carefully making last-minute adjustments to her makeup, giving her a fine powdering to prevent any shiny spots. Then they moved aside, and Susan took a deep breath as she waited for her cue.

"Don't worry about a thing, Major," the AD assured her. "You'll do great. Just relax, and have fun."

"And now," came Litterman's well-known voice, "I am proud and honoured to present someone who is, quite literally, the biggest celebrity we've ever had on the show, and the biggest hero in the entire world, the amazing fifty-foot giantess Ginormica!"

"That's it! You're on!" whispered the AD, giving her a thumbs up.

Susan felt supremely embarrassed as she walked out onto the huge stage and bent over to let Litterman shake her fingertip gently. She took her seat, and Litterman took his, on a specially built platform that put him at around her shoulder level.

"So, Major Murphy, or should I call you Ginormica? Because that's how the whole world knows you now."

"Actually, Susan is fine," Susan said with a nervous smile.

"Well, first of all, thanks so much for coming on the show tonight! I know the entire country—no, the entire world—is eager to learn as much about the mysterious, beautiful giant who saved the planet, and her monster sidekicks."

"Oh, no, Mr Litterman, I mean Dale, they're not my sidekicks," Susan hurriedly said. "They're my partners—I mean, we're a team. All equals. I mean, if anyone was the leader, it would be Doctor Cockroach, or maybe General Monger."

"The enigmatic genius, Dr Cockroach, PhD," Litterman explained to the cameras, "He is the brains of the Monster Force organization, without doubt. But Ginormica—Susan—here is clearly its charming face. Susan, please, could you tell us a little about yourself?"

"Uh, sure. Uh, well, my name is Susan Murphy, I'm 22, and from Modesto, California. I had a very quiet life there, not doing much special, until nearly four weeks ago."

"Ah yes," Litterman said. "When you got hit by the mysterious meteorite from outer space and became Ginormica. Can we roll the tape, please?"

Susan cringed inwardly as she saw herself and Derek standing at the altar. She kept her face neutral however, as the by now very familiar sight of her glowing green and then starting to grow was broadcast.

"A remarkable transformation," Litterman said, turning to the camera again. "And a remarkable woman. Susan, can you tell us exactly what this, uh, quantonium stuff is?"

"Uh, well, Dr Cockroach would be able to do this a lot better than me," Susan said. "But basically, it's something that's fused to every part of me at the quantum level. It's actually matter from another universe, where different physical laws apply. That's how I can be fifty feet tall and be so strong."

"And she is fantastically strong, ladies and gentlemen. As her team-mate Bob is fond of remarking, there ain't a pickle jar on the planet she can't open. Her official dossier notes she is around ten thousand times stronger than a normal woman would be. Calculations by Dr Cockroach and the Monster Force medical team suggest she can easily lift more than five hundred tons. That's heavier than a fully-laden jumbo, for you folks out there. This is one fantastic woman. She's Supergirl."

Susan went rather pink.

"But it's not all been good, right?" Litterman went on. "We hear you were captured by the government, hidden away in a secret base. Sources suggest that this secret base is inside the massive Area 52 complex, the even more secret sister site to the famous Area 51."

"I was there for three weeks," Susan said quietly. "It was like being in a prison. Well, it was a prison. Especially at first. I mean, what was supposed to be the happiest day of my life turned into the worst day of my life. I was so scared."

"Suddenly imprisoned for three whole weeks, without trial, without judge, your only crime being fifty feet tall. I'm sure you were scared. What must that have been like?"

"Well, I wasn't there the longest—the others had been there a lot longer. But it was still pretty hard," Susan admitted. "I got pretty depressed, too. If it wasn't for people like Cockroach, Link, and Bob… I don't know how I would have survived." She sniffed a bit and wiped her eyes. "Sorry."

"You refer to the other monsters as 'people', I note," Litterman said. "Did you always think of them as such?"

Susan hesitated, but eventually shook her head. "Not at first, to be honest. They scared me. Especially Dr Cockroach—I've never liked insects much. But I learned to see them as people, very quickly. Because they are, and I'm so proud and lucky to call them my friends. And I hope everyone out there can learn to accept them as I have. And, well, to accept me as well. I'm no different to you all—I'm just a bit taller. Well, okay, a lot taller. But inside, here, in my heart, I'm still a person, not a monster."

"Very true," Litterman said softly. "I think it's important that we learn to look past externals, and focus on what is inside a person's heart. And I know yours must be huge, Susan."

Susan blushed again.

"So tell us, what's it like being a giantess? Aside from not being afraid of pickle jars any more."

"Well, you know," Susan said nervously. "There are good things and bad things. I have to be very careful about where I step, since I weigh—well, a bit more than I used to. And it's hard to hug my family and friends any more."

"Not to mention more intimate contact," Litterman joked. "Doesn't matter how well endowed he is down there, there ain't no man on this planet that's gonna measure up…"

Susan glared at him. "I am able to flatten rude television hosts with my bare hands, however. So it's not all bad."

Litterman burst out laughing. "You're right, that was a bit over the line. Sorry. We'll cut it out of tonight's broadcast." He straightened his tie, and reshuffled his notes.

"So, aside from being able to save the world from aliens, what are some of the changes you've noticed in yourself, as a person?"

Susan looked down at her five-foot hands. "I'm, uh, I guess I'm much more confident about who I am," she said. "It's not just the size and strength thing—in fact it's not really the strength thing at all. I was put in an extraordinary situation, and had to learn to cope. With the changes, the isolation, the fear…"

"What sort of fear?"

Susan clasped her hands together nervously. "The fear of being different, being an outcast. And of having people hate me, fear me. Being a monster, a giant has, uh, cost me a lot."

"Including your former fiancé, Derek Dietl," Litterman noted. "Seen here in this file footage. Roll Tape B, please."

Susan couldn't keep a smile off her face as she saw the video of Derek gracefully flying through the air and landing with a gooey splatch in Bob.

"I gather the breakup wasn't entirely bad news," Litterman commented dryly.

"No," Susan agreed. "Well, it was at the time, I mean. Derek really hurt me. But it made me realise that I'd been relying on other people to help me, when the only person who could do that was me."

"In what sense?"

"Well, I'd always wanted to get back to my normal size, my normal life, of course," Susan explained. "And obviously I couldn't do that on my own. So I was hoping other people could help me. The government, Dr Cockroach, Derek. But no one could. Even the Doc couldn't. And Derek couldn't even be bothered trying. So I had to look inside myself to find the strength to cope. To adjust. And when I was given the chance to return to a normal life, I realised I'd changed, I'd grown—I mean not just physically. I—well, I liked myself better as Ginormica, as I was now finally, uh…"

"Your own woman?" Litterman suggested.

"Yeah, I guess so. I mean, I'm almost literally a new person."

"You don't think you're running away from your old life? Giving up on it entirely, rather than taking the effort to fix it?"

Susan blinked, taken aback. "No..." she said hesitantly. Had she? Was she fleeing something? Shutting the door on the pain of rejection by Derek by almost literally becoming a new person? "No, I don't think so. I mean, I haven't given up on my old life at all. I still love my parents, I still have friends back in Modesto. When we're on Facebook or emailing it's like almost nothing has changed. So I'm definitely still Susan Murphy. She's still me—still inside me. No, I did fix my old life."

"It looks like you certainly did," Litterman agreed. "And it's an inspiring story. Ladies and gentlemen, I've been talking with Susan Murphy, aka Ginormica, who almost single-handedly stopped an alien invasion two nights ago. This evening she and her fellow team members were awarded the Medal of Freedom by the President of the United States. We'll show you that in a moment, but right now let's thank Ginormica for taking the time to be with us here tonight, and, of course, for saving the world from aliens."

Litterman stood up and clapped, and then leant over to shake Susan's finger.

"And we're clear," the director said.

"You did brilliantly," Litterman told her. "You're a natural. I'd love to have you back on again soon."

"Uh, thanks," Susan said, not entirely sure she would actually want to. She looked around at the daylight park. "It's weird how you kept talking about 'tonight' and the ceremony in the past tense, since it hasn't happened yet."

"One of the things you get used to in television," Litterman told her. "Anyway, thanks so much for taking the time to appear on the show. I know the whole world is eager to learn more about Ginormica, and what it's like to be a giantess."

"And a hero," Sackler said, approaching them. "Major, we need to return to the others. Mr Litterman, if you will excuse us."

* * *

"Right, from here we will enter the White House grounds from the West Executive Ave entrance, and move up to the Rose Garden, outside the Oval Office," Freer told them. "I must apologize, but there will be a very quick security check before you may enter the White House grounds. I know this is offensive and humiliating, so it will be done as quickly and politely as possible. Major Link…ah… okay, I don't think we need to worry about you, or Major Bicarbonate, since clearly neither of you are concealing any weapons. Major Murphy… This is very embarrassing, but could you lie down on this large tarp so we can quickly wand you for metal items?"

Suppressing her annoyance, Susan lowered herself to the ground, and Sackler ran a metal detector wand over her rapidly. The uniform was largely metal-free, but her bra beeped. Sackler just nodded and carried on however, and Susan was relieved to see some sense applied to security checks.

"Now Major Roach, if you don't mind. Anything in your pockets?"

"Let's see…" Cockroach started patting himself down, and fished out several cogs, five lengths of wire, a screwdriver set, part of a bicycle chain, three vacuum tubes, a dog whistle, a bag of assorted nuts and bolts, twine, duct tape, two computer CPUs, six HB pencil stubs, and a half-eaten, rather sticky Swirly-Pop.

"Is that all?" Freer asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Oh, and this," Cockroach added, handing over a smallish laser pistol. Freer took it with extreme caution and a raised eyebrow, but refrained from comment.

Susan was barely able to contain herself from laughing. Suddenly she felt a lot better about the evening.

With Monger, they all headed over the road, passing through—or, in Susan's case, over—the anti-tank barricades, and then up the side road and into the White House grounds.

"Wow," she breathed. "I never thought I'd ever visit the White House."

"It is open for tours, if you apply through your local Congress representative's office," Sackler told her. "Though you don't get to see the actually interesting stuff."

"This is going to sound silly, coming from me," Susan admitted, "but it's smaller than I expected."

"It's certainly much smaller than the great palaces of Europe," Cockroach told her. "But they squeeze six floors into it. Look, down there, that's the Oval Office."

"Wow, so it is," Susan said. "Dad must be so thrilled. He loves _The West Wing_. I never really got into to it—all that walking and talking and political stuff."

"If you could just step this way," Freer asked her, gesturing to a corner of the Rose Garden.

"Mom! Dad!" Susan called, waving as she spotted her parents in the small crowd of dignitaries.

"Susie Q!" her father called. "We're so very, very proud!"

Her mother was clutching a large handkerchief to her face, and sobbing in joy. Susan felt on the verge of weeping herself, but whether it was from nerves or happiness she wasn't sure. She didn't much like standing there, with all eyes on her, so she was glad they didn't have to wait too long. In just a few moments, a man in a dark suit came out.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the President of the United States."

The President stepped out from the Oval Office. Everyone stood to attention, and he walked up to his podium.

"Today we honour some very special heroes. I am proud to be the first president in history, indeed the first world leader in history, to honour people who have risked their lives not in defence of king or even country, but in defence of an entire planet. People, moreover, who until a few days ago had been rejected and spurned by the very world they saved. Whom the United States Government knowingly robbed of their freedom for far too long. Which is why, along with an official apology on behalf of the people of the United States, I am genuinely humbled and honoured to present to Major Roach, Major Bicarbonate, Major Link, and Major Murphy, the highest civilian honour the United States can offer: the Presidential Medal of Freedom."

The press corps camera flashes were going off like crazy, reminding Susan of some of the more pyromaniac experiments the Doc had come up with to try and shrink her.

Each monster was called forth in turn in order of how long they had been in the Facility, shook hands with the President, posed for a photo, and was given their medal. Finally it was Susan's turn. She stood with pride as President Obama moved from his podium to a waiting cherry-picker, and smoothly ascended forty feet into the air. When he reached her chest level, she saluted, and he leaned over and carefully pinned the medal on her.

"I wanted to get you a giant one, but apparently that wouldn't be official," he told her quietly with a smile.

"I'm just honoured to be here, Mr President," Susan said.

Obama shook his head. "No, Major. It is I who is honoured. This is what this medal means. That in the eyes of a grateful nation, you are to be given the highest honour it can bestow."

"Thank you, sir," Susan said, her voice choking.

"Your parents are here today, aren't they?" the President asked.

"Yes, sir. Thanks for inviting them," Susan said.

"They must be so proud of you," Obama said. "I'll have to have a talk with them later. Thank them for giving the world you."

Susan didn't know how to respond to that, save with tears of pride and love for her mother and father.

.

* * *

**NOTES**: Any similarity between "Dale Litterman" and well-known American talk show hosts is purely coindential. Especially as I am not American and do not generally watch their shows, so I just took one well-known name at random, changed it to "Ray Reno," then decided he was more known for comedy so found another.  
Okay, a slight fiddling with canon here: I've given Doc a Swirly-Pop a before Halloween... (for what it's worth, I have calculated for this fic at least that the wedding was in June, and it is now July. The reason for the popularity of June weddings, incidentally, is that it is named after Juno, Roman goddess of marriage. She would bring prosperity and happiness to all who wed in her month. If you're interested, I've tentatively set the wedding date as Sunday June 17th, 2012. The "current" date is July 12th).  
The awards ceremony is completely made up. I wanted something short and dignified, without too much pomp and circumstance. Those readers who have in fact been awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom are encouraged to suggest corrections. And those who haven't are encouraged to suggest corrections anyway...


	5. As a Tent to Dwell In

**5. As a Tent to Dwell In**

That night Susan lay awake, the events of the day chasing through her mind. Especially the rather overwhelming medal presentation ceremony. And the outdoor banquet that followed. Her father had kept trying to insist that the President was really of Irish descent, and his name was originally "O'Bama." Luckily that was the extent of his silliness. Mostly he had just been overawed by everything, and managed to get tongue-tied when Obama talked with him, referring to him first as "President Bartlett," then as "President Sheen." Luckily for him, Obama was also a _West Wing_ fan, so the two of them ended up having a long conversation about whether CJ Craig was a better Press Secretary or Chief of Staff. Her mother, in the meantime, had spent time talking with the First Lady about raising daughters. Susan was glad her parents had enjoyed themselves. She herself had been less able to relax, constantly looking out to make sure she didn't hit anything, or stand on anything—or anyone, and always having to lean down to talk was also tiring. So she had been rather relieved when it had ended, even though that meant her parents had to head back to their hotel.

Susan watched as the clock numbers slowly changed, wishing she had a computer or television or something. She was finding it hard to sleep. Eventually she got up, wrapped her sheet around her, and poked her head out the tent door. Cockroach's tent was next to hers, so she stretched out her arm and tapped gently on his door.

"Yes? Who is it?" came his cultured tones.

"Doc, could you come into my tent for a bit?" Susan asked. "I'd like to talk."

"One moment, my dear," Cockroach said. "Just need to finish—" There was a slight bang, and Cockroach emerged from his tent along with a small cloud of blue smoke. "Never mind," he said with annoyance. He scuttled into the big tent, and found a normal chair tucked under the conference table that was being used as a night-stand for Susan.

"Is anything the matter?" he asked.

"Not really," Susan said. "I just can't sleep. I was bored, and knew you'd still be awake."

"For you, I am available any time, awake or asleep," he assured her.

"That's so sweet of you, my dear," Susan said. Why are you always so nice to me?"

Cockroach paused, considering. "Because no matter how grey my mood, a smile from you is a ray of sunshine bursting through the clouds. I'm sorry—that's just so cheesy."

"Cheesy or not," Susan said softly, "it's about the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. Oh, I wish… I wish I could hug you properly. I wish I could hug you like Bob, taking you right inside me."

"Uh, my dear, I'm not sure you should be wanting to, er, take me inside you…"

"Oh my God," Susan giggled. "I didn't mean it like that! Sorry! You know, you can always make me laugh."

"Even more than Bob?"

"Differently," Susan assured him. "Bob is… well, Bob. He says funny things, but he doesn't realise they're funny, so you can't laugh too much or he'll get upset. With you, I can laugh."

"It took a while before you could laugh, however," Cockroach noted quietly.

"Yes, it did," Susan agreed with a slight sigh. "Sometimes I wonder if there is a reason for everything that happens in our lives. It would make it easier to cope with if you could be sure of that."

"Unfortunately, it doesn't appear that there is," Cockroach said. "All we can do is to decide what to do with the hand that is dealt us."

"Like being here, camping out in the middle of Washington DC. After so long without even a window, it feels a bit weird being in this big tent. I'm used to something a little more… solid."

"Well, it's sort of appropriate for you, as the Bible almost says about giants: _She that sitteth upon the circle of the earth, and the inhabitants thereof are as cockroaches; that stretcheth out the heavens as a curtain, and spreadeth them out as a tent to dwell in…_"

Susan laughed. "I don't want to dwell in a tent! Well, aside from a night or two camping. Have you ever been camping, Doc?"

"I am not sure I have ever slept under canvas in my life," Cockroach admitted. "Lots of other things, including the odd dumpster, and a cow once, but never actually canvas."

"You slept under a cow?" Susan asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Long story," Cockroach told her. "It was during one of my early attempts to take over the world, or at least the West Midlands. I'd created a wonderful doomsday device, but had failed to consider one point. Or two, really: it wasn't waterproof, and I was in England. So I spent a few nights on the run, and had to spend one of them underneath a cow. It wasn't a real cow, mind you—a large model of one or something."

Susan laughed again. "I can safely say that I have never slept under a cow, model or real. Nor have I ever forgotten to waterproof my doomsday devices." She looked up at the swooping folds of canvas, dimly lit from outside. "I have slept in tents before, though. When I was a kid, I would go camping in the back yard at home with my friends. And now I am camping out in what is almost the back yard of the President of the United States," she mused.

"Life is strange and unpredictable," Cockroach noted quietly. "We are none of us where we thought we would be."

Susan sighed deeply. "I thought I had my life all worked out. Though it turned out it was actually all worked out for me, by Derek. And then he abandoned me, and I had to cope, take stock of my life, on my own."

"Do not weep, little one," Cockroach said. "There is nothing to fear now. We monsters stick together, remember? We will—I will never abandon you."

"Like Derek?" Susan asked. "You know, while I'm glad now that he did, I still really resent the fact that he did that. It was cowardly and selfish."

"You wouldn't want to be with him, surely?" Cockroach asked.

Susan shook her head. "Sometimes I think about him, about our relationship, and realise that even if we had stayed together—if I'd never been hit by the quantonium and we'd got married as planned—my life with him would have so small and limited."

"In what sense?"

"I'd have ended up doing nothing with my life. I mean, what would I have done in Fresno? I wouldn't know anyone there, I'd probably be limited to socialising with the wives of Derek's friends and colleagues. Have a child or two and socialise with other mothers. Always defined by my relationships with other people. An ignorant small-town girl who never even dreamed what wonders might lie beyond her limited horizons."

She brought up a hand and wiped her eyes.

"Susan, my dear, don't weep; you aren't that girl. Not any more."

"You must think me dreadfully emotionally unstable, Doc," she said with a slight smile. "Crying at the drop of a hat."

"You have had very good reasons, my dear," Cockroach assured her. "Considering what has happened to you."

"It's not just that, though," Susan told him. "I've always been emotionally intense. Happy, sad, whatever—I can't manage that wonderfully calm air of detachment you're so good at."

"I don't think it would suit you," Cockroach admitted. "I love your emotional openness—I hope you never feel the need to shut others out. And it has been a great help to you, in fact."

"How so?"

"You don't bottle up your feelings, letting them fester and explode," Cockroach told her. "Being able to express your emotions so purely has helped you cope with the traumatic changes your life has undergone."

"I just remember it as an emotional rollercoaster," Susan said. "One minute hopeful, the next minute crying my eyes out. It must have been very trying on you all."

"Not at all," he assured her. "We all sympathised, deeply. And it was better that than my way: I used to bottle everything up. Never gave a hint of my emotions. It was a protective wall I threw up around me. But inside there was so much hatred and anger… When it finally did come out, it—it wasn't pleasant."

"Doomsday devices and taking over the world…" Susan said quietly.

"Ah, but let's not talk about such gloomy things on such a wonderful day," Cockroach told her. "Today was a day of celebration, of happiness, surrounded by your loved ones."

Susan shifted so she could see him better. She held out her hand.

"Could you hop on, please."

Raising a curious eyebrow, Cockroach nestled himself on her palm. Susan sat up, tucking her sheet around her, and brought him to her eye level, as close as she could focus. She looked at him silently, her eyes watering. Cockroach's heart was beating fast—what was she thinking? What was she expecting of him? He wasn't even sure if his feelings towards her were romantic, or paternal. She was certainly very attractive, or at least he thought so. Her minor flaws may have been magnified nine times, as Link had ungenerously noted, but so was her sweet innocent beauty. Yet he also felt very protective and fatherly towards her. Even more so than to the other monsters. She had been so scared, so sad when she was brought in, and he had realised then and there that his life's mission would be to keep her happy and safe. And he knew he could never burden her by telling her so.

"Um…" he began, not sure how long she was going to gaze at him.

"I'm sorry," Susan said. "I just wanted to look at you closely, see you almost as if we were the same height. Sometimes I feel so…isolated."

"Ah…" Cockroach said quietly, realising something. Despite her new confidence in herself as Ginormica, Susan still felt like an outcast. She was the odd one out in their group, by being eight times taller than even Link. By being the youngest and newest member by quite a bit. By being the only female. And now by being singled out as the face of Monster Force for her actions on the bridge, and, Cockroach knew, for being by far the most photogenic of them. Certainly more than him. For a moment, he wished he had his old head back, suave, handsome. Maybe then Susan would see him as… _No, no, no_, he told himself. _You're like a father figure to her. She trusts you. Don't you ever abuse that trust. Not again_. Instead, an idea was forming in his fertile mind. A way to perhaps make Susan feel less outsized. He shelved it until they were back and he had access to his lab.

"I guess I'm just saying I got a little overwhelmed today. All these people, all looking up at me, all saying how wonderful I was… It's not something that ever happened to me before, you know."

"Nobody ever praised you?" Cockroach asked, raising an antenna.

"Well, I got praise, I guess," Susan admitted. "Minor praise. For little things. 'Good girl' just about covers it. Oh, it wasn't really that patronising, I guess. Just… You remember when you and the others were trapped behind the door on that ship, and you told me to leave, to return to my old life?"

"I do," Cockroach assured her. "And you told me that you didn't want your old life back. You don't know how scared, but how proud, I was to hear you say that."

Susan held out her finger and thumb, and gently took Cockroach's hand in hers. With the lightest pressure, she gently caressed it. Cockroach's heartrate increased.

"What I realised then was that I had never really expected much from myself, because nobody else ever had. And now…"

"They do," Cockroach finished for her. "Doesn't that make you feel better?"

Susan gnawed on her lower lip for a bit. "What if I can't be what they want me to be? I mean, I've been thinking about all the things I did, and I'm worried if you asked me to do them again, I'd be too scared."

"But you were scared even then, Susan," Cockroach assured her, holding her forefinger with his other hand. "I saw how terrified you were on the Golden Gate. You didn't fight that robot because you weren't afraid of it, or because you knew you could beat it. You fought it because you had to. Because lives were depending on you. Because true bravery is not a lack of fear, but overcoming your fear and doing what has to be done; which makes you, my dear Susan Murphy, the bravest person I know. I am certain, I am in fact so certain that I know I will bet my life on it when the time comes, that no matter how scared you are, you will overcome your fear and do what has to be done, because that is the sort of person you really are. Deep inside, so deep that even you don't realise."

"_That which does not kill me makes me stronger_," Susan quoted.

"I'm glad to see you remember our philosophy lessons. But Nietzsche was not quite right: suffering is not what makes you strong: it is something you survive because you were strong to begin with. The suffering merely helps you realise it. You always were strong, Susan. You just never had a need to know it."

Susan's fingers gently closed around Cockroach, and she held him to her face, gently nuzzling his head. "Just make sure you're there when I need you," she said softly.

Cockroach reached up and stroked her soft cheek, wet with tears. "Always," he whispered.

"I know you will be," she responded, brushing the tip of her finger across his thin cheek before letting him down again.

There was a brief silence as Susan watched her two-foot long fingers flex, and then she looked over at her mutated friend. "When me and my friends were camping in the back yard, we used to try and scare ourselves by telling each other stories of monsters. And now what am I?"

"A hero," Cockroach assured her.

"People keep saying that," Susan said softly. "Maybe they're even right. But I'm still a monster. My mother used to say there are no monsters, not really. But there are. Me. You. Link. Bob, Insecto. The Invisible Man. How many others are out there? Which ones are real? Bigfoot? The Yeti? Nessie?"

"Definitely not Nessie," Cockroach assured her. "As to the others? Who can say. It's very unlikely that we are the only monsters on Earth, however. There must be others. Other like us, who have had to live in isolation, cut off from…. uh… cut off… from society…"

Cockroach gulped. The bed sheet had slipped down a bit, and Susan was showing a considerable amount of cleavage. With an effort, he tore his gaze away from her large tanned breasts and concentrated on her beautiful blue eyes. In the dim light of the tent, they looked almost grey, far away and introspective. He had spent a lot of time looking into Susan's eyes since her arrival. To look for a tear, a sign of sadness, or even perhaps a rare sign of happiness. They were wonderfully large and expressive eyes, and he felt he knew their every mood intimately. Now, however, they were almost unreadable.

"Do you suppose there's another giant out there, somewhere?" Susan asked, her eyes fixed on her friend.

"Ah, well, it's certainly possible," Cockroach responded. "Though he might not be the same size as you."

"Interesting that you said 'he' and 'same size,' you know," Susan said quietly. "You think I meant I was wondering if there was a man out there for me."

"Ah—" Cockroach stammered. He had walked right into that one. "I'm sorry, my dear," he said. "I didn't mean to imply anything."

"I know, but you're still thinking it," Susan said. "And you're so sweet to think it. You want to see me find someone out there I can truly love, truly be with. But what are the chances of that? Let's say there is another giant out there, my size, but male. What are the chances that I would even like him? I don't want to think I have to be with this guy—it would be like Derek all over again."

"Have to be? In what sense?"

Susan sighed. "Derek and I met in high school, and we were going steady for years. Everyone just assumed we'd eventually get married. Hell, I assumed that too. It was like it never really occurred to me that there were other choices, let alone better choices. Yes, I was in love with him, or so I thought—maybe I was just in love with the idea of being in love. The romantic fairy-tale princess story…. But not again! I'm not going to be involved with someone just because everyone expects me to. No matter how physically suited he might be. I'm not going to let outward physical appearance dictate my love life. I want someone I can love for who they really are, on the inside…"

"Bravo, my dear," Cockroach said, clapping softly.

Susan looked at him, seeing his huge misshapen head, his gigantic eyes, almost as big as hers.

"You know, when I first arrived at the prison—I mean the monster facility—I thought you were horrifically ugly. You terrified me."

"Yes, you trying to beat me to death with a spoon somehow gave me that idea," he noted dryly.

"Oh, come on," Susan said, leaning over and stroking his arm carefully. "That was then. But now… Now all I see when I look at you is a wise, intelligent, caring friend. I hope you know how much you have helped me, and how much you mean to me."

"No more than you mean to me," Cockroach said softly, overcome by her sweet, loving smile. His heart was pounding. He could feel his control loosen. Any minute now he would blurt out something that he couldn't take back. "…to all of us," he added. "We all love you. Bob, Link, me…"

Susan stopped stroking him. "Yeah, all of us," she sighed. "You're right. We're a team. Damn, is that the time? I really need to get some sleep. Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you up so late. Thanks so much for talking with me. Good night, my sweet little mad scientist…"

Puzzled, and worried that he had managed to say the wrong thing anyway, Cockroach bade her farewell and headed to his own tent.

Alone again, Susan stared up at the gently moving ceiling, seeing the strange patterns of light and shadow slowly shift as she thought back over their conversation. What it had felt like to hold him so close….

"Dammit Susan, what the hell are you thinking?" she asked herself quietly. "I thought you were supposed to be past defining yourself by your relationships. I thought you were strong and independent now. Get a grip, girl."

_But that doesn't mean I don't want someone in my life_, Susan thought to herself, her eyes watering._ I don't want to be alone for ever_…

.

* * *

**NOTES**: Actually, there is no doubt that CJ Craig was a better Press Secretary than Chief of Staff. That was one of the major misfires of late West Wing stories. Along with the Toby arc. And I would also put having Senator Vinnick lose, even though it was pretty much inevitable.

Other than that, there ain't a huge amount to say about this chapter. "All Talking, All the Time" really. But Plot and Action are coming up, and hopefully this is setting out some themes and issues for Susan's arc.

Incidentally, the Bible quote is wordmangled from Isaiah 40:22: "It is he that sitteth upon the circle of the earth, and the inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers; that stretcheth out the heavens as a curtain, and spreadeth them out as a tent to dwell in."


	6. Oh Susie Q

**6. Oh Susie Q**

The next morning, after breakfast, the monsters assembled at the south side of the Ellipse, along with Monger, Freer, Sackler, and Susan's parents. Not to mention what looked to Susan like a small army of government officials, officers, and army personnel. In addition to a rather substantial press contingent, who were already snapping photos of the group, and of her in particular. It was not very relaxing. But at least she could talk to her parents.

"Good morning, monsters, distinguished guests," Monger said, interrupting Susan's mother telling her about who she had run into at the mall the other day. "Major Freer will be taking command of your tour of the monuments along the National Mall, so please direct all questions to him. There will be a press session after the tour, and the press are requested to remain at a safe distance. You have all signed waivers in the event of any, er, unfortunate encounters with monsters."

"Mom, Daddy," Susan called down. "Do you want to ride with me?"

"Ride, my dear?" her mother called up.

"On my shoulders. Daddy used to take me for shoulder rides all the time. Now it's my turn."

"Oh, I'm not sure I'd feel safe up there," her mother said. "You know I'm not that good with heights."

"I'll come, Susie Q," her father said.

Susan smiled, and bent down so her father could sit in her palm. She lifted him up carefully, and let him scramble nervously onto her shoulder, where he wedged himself in her epaulet and held tight to her collar.

"Might I join you?" Cockroach asked.

"Of course," Susan told him. "You can ride on my right shoulder. Balance me out."

"You're too kind," Cockroach said, and scuttled up her trouser leg then onto her back.

"Everybody set?" she asked.

"Just… be careful, honey," her mother called.

"Very," Susan said.

"I'm fine, dear," her father called back. "What a view from up here!"

Susan laughed. "Glad you like it."

"Okay, we're heading out," Monger called up. "First stop, the Washington Monument! Major Freer, we're in your hands."

"Thank you General," Freer said. He barked an order, and the small convoy moved out, crossing the blocked-off Constitution Ave,

"I never realised the Monument wasn't square onto the White House," Susan remarked. "It's sort of shifted towards the Capitol."

"You want to try shifting it back?" her father joked.

Susan looked up at the 555-foot obelisk, and laughed.

"There are some things even you cannot lift, my dear," Cockroach said. "The Washington Monument weighs around ninety thousand tons. Which is why it's not at the centre of the two axes. The land there is reclaimed land, and couldn't support its weight. Notice how it changes colour on the way up."

"Oh yeah, it's sorta dirty at the bottom. Are they going to clean it?" Susan asked as she carefully stepped through the flags that ringed the obelisk.

"No, that was where work was stopped for about thirty years," Cockroach explained.

"Get a photo of us, honey," her father called down, interrupting Cockroach's lecture. Her mother bustled around with the camera, shouting "Cheese!" up to them a few times.

"I think there will be plenty of photos to go around," Susan muttered, looking at the several dozen press cameramen busy clicking away.

"My daughter the movie star," her father joked. "What's your best side?"

"The only side they're getting is 'below'," Susan laughed. "I'm rather glad I'm not wearing a skirt."

"I think Major Freer is asking us to get together for a group photo," Cockroach noted.

"Major! Could you kneel down or something?" Freer called.

"Not really," Susan called back. "I've got two people riding on my shoulders. I can't bend down. They might fall. Well, my father might fall…"

"Hold it," Link called up. He grabbed her trouser leg, and clambered up, with rather less speed and grace than Cockroach had. Bob shot himself up, latching onto her belt, then onto her hand as Susan held Link on her other hand. Monger slipped his jetpack on, and joined them, hovering just below her shoulders.

"Perfect!" Freer called up. "Hold it there!"

"Ginormica! Can you tell us what you think of Washington?" called someone.

"No questions until the end!" Monger barked. "The next rule-breaker will be escorted out of the tour!"

"Next, we will proceed up the National Mall to the US Capitol," Freer told them. "We will pass between the buildings of the Smithsonian Institute, the world's largest museum. On the right you can see the original Smithsonian Museum, now known as the Castle…"

Susan tuned him out. She found guided tours dull enough normally, and this one was just like a school trip to some packing plant, farm, or other dull place. She did like being there, and seeing all the famous buildings she'd only seen on television before, but it was also a little frustrating being so restricted. Not just in terms of size and being unable to actually visit any of them, but also by being on a very highly organized group tour. She couldn't even walk properly, as she had to keep her speed down.

Cockroach was also keeping up a running commentary on her shoulder, eagerly pointing out things of varying degrees of interest, but she was tuning him out as well. She just wasn't in the mood to be lectured. The massive scale of the National Mall was, at least, helping make it a little more relaxing. The army and police kept her path clear, so she didn't need to worry about stepping on anything, and there were no immediate reminders of her size. The Capitol, getting closer and closer, and its nearly 300 foot height still dwarfed her.

They stopped at the Ulysses S. Grant Memorial for another photoshoot, and then another one at the base of the Capitol itself. The press were kept behind rope barriers each time, and while a few questions were called out, the monsters ignored them all. Susan was constantly twisting this way and that to calls of "Over here, Ginormica!" "This way, Major!" "Susan!" "Ginormica, here!" that assaulted her from all sides.

"Why aren't they calling out my name?" Link grumbled. "I shoulda been on that TV program."

"They didn't invite you as you're so ugly," Cockroach teased.

"And they didn't invite you as they knew you'd turn their cameras into a bomb and blow up the studio," Link shot back.

"Why didn't they invite me?" Bob asked. "Aren't I cute enough?"

"You're very cute, Bob," Susan assured him.

"Cuter than Insecto?" he asked.

"Fat chance," Link retorted. "Wish she was here. She could fit in the Mall."

"Yes, but it's a long way for a moth to fly," Cockroach reminded him. "We did it in six hours. Adding in rests, Insecto would need about sixty."

"Still…" Link groused. "It woulda been so cool to come in on his back and land in the middle of the Mall."

"You're doing splendidly, majors," Freer called up. "We're getting some great shots of you all. These will really help sell you as patriots and defenders of our great nation."

Susan could hear Cockroach muttering unhappily under his breath, and was inclined to agree with him. She felt rather like the Pentagon was using them for its own publicity. She had fought the robot and Gallaxhar to save her friends, and the people of Earth, not for patriotic reasons.

"Next stop, the Lincoln Memorial," Freer was saying. "We'll take the vehicles, so you can walk straight there."

"What, not going to the Jefferson?" Cockroach asked.

"You like Jefferson?" Susan asked.

"My personal favourite of the US Presidents," Cockroach said as Susan carried them along the wide grassy space at a modest walking speed of around twenty miles an hour. Her mother and the others in the government cars took the road. "Architect, scientist, agriculturalist… Did you know that he gave strict instructions that when he died, his grave was to read 'Author of the Declaration of American Independence, of the Statute of Virginia for religious freedom, Father of the University of Virginia'?"

"Nothing about being President?" Susan asked.

"It wasn't as important to him as things like freedom and knowledge," Cockroach noted happily.

"I went to Monticello as a young man," her father reminisced. "Jefferson had some very modern ideas. Apparently he invented the swivel chair."

"Indeed," Cockroach said. "Along with a lot of other things."

"Okay, okay, enough about dead humans," Link moaned. "I ain't never been to this Monty Cello place, and I don't really know or care who Jeffery Sun was."

"Jeffery's son?" Bob asked. "Is that me?"

"No, your father was called Tom," Cockroach told him. "Tom Arto. Or, since you're an American blob, Tom Ader."

"Cool," Bob said with a toothless grin. "I wish I'd know him. Wait, really?"

"Well, he might have been," Cockroach admitted. "It's not impossible. Oh look, Bob! Squirrel!"

With Bob distracted, they passed through the World War Two Memorial, and Susan could see the Lincoln Memorial ahead, reflecting in the pool.

"Hey, a pond!" Link called. "I am so dry! Excuse me!"

He scrambled off Susan and dove in the Reflecting Pool. In half a second he was up again, rubbing his head. The water was only up to his knees.

"What the hell? Who builds a pool you can't swim in? That's nuts!"

"You should hop out," Susan said. "Major Freer will get mad."

"So what?" Link growled. "Buncha idiots. Saluting and 'sir'-ing us and all that. Pretending they respect us. They still think we're freaks, you know."

"They've been very nice, I thought," Susan said. "We've been treated like royalty."

"Yeah, with no privacy, no time to ourselves, other people always telling us what to do and where to go…."

"It'll be over soon, Linky-baby," Susan told him. "I know you miss Insecto—you can't pretend to be the cool hard hero with us, you know. Now come on!"

They headed along the south side of the Reflecting Pool, and in a few moments were standing in the plaza at the base of the impressive classical building.

"Susan!" her mother called up. "Sit down on the steps so we can all get a photo with you!"

"Time to get off," Susan told her father and the others. "Thank you for travelling with Air Susan today. We know you have a choice of giants, and look forward to serving you again soon."

She allowed her father to crawl carefully onto her palm, and then, holding him gingerly, she gently deposited him on the ground as Cockroach and Bob scuttled down her side.

"How was it, dear?" his wife asked him.

"Uh… Informative," he said. "That Cockroach chap certainly seems to know a lot about a lot."

"Why thank you, Mr Murphy. I dabble, I flitter hither and yon, you know."

"He means you talk too much, Doc," Susan said with a smile as she carefully sat down on the top of the steps. Her parents gathered around her, and Major Freer was pressed into taking the photo after Susan explained that giving Cockroach gadgets of any kind meant that by the time you got them back, they'd be transformed into something else entirely. And frequently something dangerous, to boot. The press were let into the area and also began taking a massive number of photos, but Susan did her best to ignore them.

"Would you like to see inside, Major?" Freer asked, handing the camera back to Susan's mother.

Susan glanced behind her. "I can fit inside, right?"

"No problem, Major," Freer assured her. "Just remember to duck."

Susan stood up, to a collective gasp from the press who were reminded once again of her titanic size, and climbed the steps, taking the entire flight in a single large stride. Then she carefully did the same to the final, marble, flight, and found herself almost eye-to-eye with the entablature above the forty-four foot Doric columns that ringed the Memorial.

"Huh, I never knew there were the names of states on this thing," she commented.

"You've probably not seen it this close up," Cockroach commented from down near her feet.

"Well, no, I mean, this is my first visit to Washington," Susan said, carefully ignoring his real meaning. She ducked her head under the lintel, taking care not to hit the columns, and found herself in the cool dark interior. She could stand upright here, with plenty of room to spare.

"Welcome to the Lincoln Memorial, majors," Freer told them. "I'll let you appreciate the shrine to our greatest president—" Cockroach coughed loudly "—and the press conference will start in quarter of an hour. Feel free to direct any questions to the National Park Service officials."

"Thanks, Major," Susan said.

"Ah, alone at last," Link groused. "Well, mostly."

Susan looked down. Sackler was still there, as were one or two officials and officers.

"How tall is Lincoln?" she asked, curious about the large seated statue.

"The statue is nineteen feet tall, Major," one of the park officials told her.

"No, I mean, if he were real—I mean, if the statue were standing," Susan explained.

"Ah. One moment." The official quickly conferred with his colleague. "He would be twenty-eight feet tall, Major," he called back up.

"Hmm." Susan moved over to the statue, and looked down at it. "I was hoping he'd be a bit taller. Guess he looks bigger as he's on this great big base."

"With the base, the seated statue is thirty feet tall," the official informed her.

"There's a story that says his hands are in the American Sign Language positions for A and L," Cockroach added.

"There are no records supporting that," the park official noted. "The National Park Service considers this an urban legend."

"Nevertheless," Cockroach stated, "they do form those letters, Lincoln had signed legislation allowing a college for the deaf to grant degrees, and the sculptor knew sign language as his own son was deaf. There is no direct evidence, but the indirect evidence is certainly suggestive."

"Be that as it may, Cockroach," Monger said, gazing up at the statue and saluting, "this was one of the greatest Americans. I don't think we should be bickering over his hands."

"Not being an American," Cockroach replied smoothly, "I am not quite as affected. I certainly appreciate his significance for your domestic history, of course."

"Humph," Monger harrumphed.

Susan was looking around. There wasn't that much to see here, she decided. The statue was pretty cool, true, but there was nothing else. And the only other things she could see in the rather gloomy interior were two long inscriptions, one on each side wall. She wandered to the south one, with her father behind her, and started to read it.

"Dad, Doc, I know this! Four score and seven years ago—I always thought that was Shakespeare!"

"No, not Shakespeare," Cockroach told her, coming to join her. "The Great Emancipator. You don't have to feel embarrassed about mixing them—Lincoln would have been honoured. You see what it says here? We may have helped to save freedom, indeed. But, as Lincoln reminds us, the world will little note, nor long remember what we did, so enjoy it while it while it lasts."

"I don't mind if they don't treat us as heroes," Susan said. "I just don't want them to go back to treating us like freaks. I don't want us to be outcasts again…."

A little while later, Major Freer came for them, and Susan ducked under the lintel and stood at the top of the steps. The camera flashes started going off the minute the monsters were visible. Guided by Freer, Susan eased herself down onto the top of the broad lower flight of steps that led up to the shrine, and the other monsters gathered around her, along with Monger. They were bathed in strobes from dozens of flashes, and then Freer held up his hand for calm.

"Good afternoon," he said. "I am Major Freer, from the Army's Office of the Chief of Public Affairs at the Pentagon, and I will be conducting today's briefing. First question, from Rick Horne of the _New York Times_."

"Thank you, and it's an honour to be here today. General Monger, why has the existence of these monsters, and their base, been kept a secret for so long? The American public have a right to know."

"Well, there you're wrong, son. The American public do not have a right to know, they have a right not to know."

"A right not to know?" Horne scoffed.

"Right. Some things we need to keep secret from you in order to keep it secret from our enemies. Some things we need to keep secret from you in order to give the country peace of mind. And some things we need to keep secret from you to protect those things."

"Yes, but who are you, general, to make that decision, which goes against everything America stands for?"

"In the first place, son, I didn't make that decision. That was President Truman. I suggest you take it up with him. In the second place, I'm a general in the United States Army. I worked my way up from private to where I am through more than half a century of loyal service to this nation and the ideals for which it stands. I have laid my life on the line to defend it many times. And I don't appreciate having my patriotism questioned by some liberal commie arts major!"

"Yes, well, thank you for your candour, General," Freer said. "Does anyone, er, have a question for any of the monsters—of the Monster Force members?"

"Ah, yes, Franz Ferdinand of _Nature_. I have a question for Doctor Cockroach. The government's told us that Ginormica has been given her size and strength due to a substance called, uh, Quantonium. Can you tell us any of its properties?"

"Unfortunately, not at this time," Cockroach said with a glance at Monger's stern face. "Much about it remains classified. I hope to be able to make a full presentation on how it affects Susan—Ginormica—at the Quantum Physics of Living Matter Symposium at the Royal Society later this year, however."

"Can you tell us if it's true that it's not actually from this universe?"

"Uh… Where did you hear that?"

"There have been unsubstantiated rumours."

"I'm afraid I cannot verify those rumours at this time," Cockroach said. "All I can say is that it exhibits anomalous behaviour that is not compatible with our current understanding of physics in this universe."

"How long until the remains of the alien robot and ship will be made available to scientists and researchers?"

"Umm. I'm trying to persuade the General to move that up, but at the moment even I don't have access. Much as I would love it."

"Dr Cockroach, is it true your PhD is in literature, and not any of the sciences?" came another question.

"My PhD is in biophysics, thank you very much. Footlights College, Cambridge, 1948. However I do have an MFA in interpretative dance."

"Mr Link! Is it true you fainted on the Golden Gate Bridge?"

Link growled menacingly.

"It's Major Link, and he didn't faint," Susan added, glaring at the reporter. "He was knocked unconscious by the robot's force field."

"I didn't faint. I just have some sinus issues," Link grumbled quietly.

"Do you feel any remorse for those National Guardsmen you killed back on Coco Beach?"

Link's left eye twitched. "Yeah, for them, I do. You I wouldn't lose much sleep over."

"There will be no questions about the pre-capture rampages of any of the Monster Force," Freer called out. "Violators will be removed."

"Or eaten," Link added with a snarl.

"Ginormica! Allie McAllen, _Ms_ Magazine! Tell me, do you see yourself as some sort of feminist icon?"

Susan blinked. "A feminist icon? Why?"

"As a giant, as a hero, you're a symbol of female empowerment," the journalist explained. "How does that make you feel?"

"Well, I'm not sure if I'm paving the way for other girls to become giants," Susan said nervously to general laughter. "But I don't really see myself as any sort of icon, and not a feminist one. I mean if you want to see me as some sort of empowered woman, I guess you can, but there are plenty of other role models out there for that…. I think if I were to be a symbol for anyone, it would be for those people that don't quite fit in, the strange ones, the outcasts. We're all outcasts," she went on, gesturing to her monster friends. "We were rejected by society, locked away where no one else could see us. And now you call us heroes. I think what I want to say is, you never know when you're going to need the very people you rejected and hated to save the day, so, you know, please don't treat them—treat us—as outcasts."

There was a loud round of applause at that, and Susan flushed. In truth, she had expected a question like that, and had been thinking about her answer for a couple of nights.

"But as a feminist icon," McAllen pressed, "you do have quite some importance. For example, you rejected your fiancé, and now live independently of any man. That means something."

"It means Derek was a jerk," Susan said to more laughter. She thought a bit. "But you know, I'm not independent of any man—these other monsters, they're all guys—well, we're not sure about Bob, as he doesn't have a sex, and Cockroach says Insecto is actually female. Anyway, I depend on them. But they also depend on me. That's what a team is. We're all in it together, equal. We all depend on each other, male or female, human or not. We need to remember that, since we all have to share this world together."

There was another round of applause.

"Next question," Freer called.

"Ah, Miss Murphy, Susan, Erick Johnston here, the _Modesto Bee_."

"Hey, my parents get that," Susan exclaimed happily. "What's your question?"

"There are rumours that, while you dumped your fiancé very publicly following the alien ship's destruction, you had in fact already cheated on him with Dr Cockroach. Care to comment on these accusations?"

"No, no! That's not true at all! I was always loyal! I swear!" Her eyes suddenly narrowed. "Wait… Did Derek put you up to this?" she demanded. "It was Derek! It has to have been! That lousy, stinking, rotten, little creep! I'll kill him!"

"Is that a denial? Do you deny you are actually in love with Dr Cockroach?"

Susan went white. She suddenly stood up and dashed back inside the deserted Memorial hall.

"All right, that's enough, get him out of here!" Freer ordered. "The press conference is over!"

"I'd let Susan wait in the hall until they have all left," Cockroach suggested.

"I agree," Monger said, his face red. "How dare he! If I had him under my command, I'd…"

* * *

Inside the cool, dark hall, Susan was sitting under the Gettysburg Address, her head slumped on her knees, and trying not to cry. She was furious with Derek—it had to have been him. Derek knew all the major reporters in Modesto, which wasn't that hard, really. He'd have been making the rounds of every media person who would listen to him, Susan realised. Telling them every last detail of their time together. Every last, sordid, intimate detail….

"Susan?" It was Cockroach, approaching her nervously.

"Hiya Doc," Susan said limply. "That could have gone better, couldn't it?"

"I thought you handled it very well," Cockroach said. "Instead of wasting too much time trying to deny the allegation, you quickly changed to attacking the questioner. Always a very useful tactic."

"How do you know so much about the press?" Susan asked, surprised.

"Ah, well, back in the days when I was trying to take over the world, or at least the parts I thought would be useful, I... well, I had some brushes with the law, and got used to reporters ambushing me outside the courtrooms. Plus I also called a few conferences myself to announce I was going to take over the world."

Susan stretched out on the cool floor so she could be at eye level with Cockroach. "Somehow I really cannot imagine you ever being a villain," She said.

"It's very kind of you to say it," Cockroach said. "But truth be told, Link's not the only one whom prison mellowed. When I was younger I was a much angrier person. I was full of hatred for a world that couldn't understand me, treated me as a freak. And then my experiment went wrong and I really was a freak. I guess I sort of snapped. I did some things I regret to this day. Things that… well, let's just say I deserved to be locked up for life."

"I can't believe you could ever do anything that bad," Susan assured him.

"And I never want you to believe that," Cockroach told her quietly.

"Susie Q?" Susan's father joined them, much to Cockroach's relief.

"Daddy? Sorry I cut and run back there."

"I'll see you later," Cockroach said, as he patted her arm and headed out.

"Look, honey, don't get too upset about what the reporter said. We know it's not true. We know you would never have cheated on Derek."

"I wish I had, now," Susan said bitterly. "How can he make me feel so… so powerless?"

"He only has power over you if you let him," her father said.

"I don't want to let him!" Susan cried. "But… Oh Daddy, do you know how much I thought about him when I was in prison, how much the hope of him kept me strong? And then he... he… All that was for nothing?"

"There, there." Her father gently stroked her silver hair. "If it kept you strong, it served its purpose. Come on, your mother's waiting outside. Monger says the press have been shooed away, so it's just us."

"Good. I don't want to talk to the press any more."

Susan stood up, and carefully followed her father outside.

"Ginormica, we will be leaving after lunch," Monger informed her. "Your parents are welcome to join us for the meal, of course."

"Thanks, General."

"Hey Giny, you doing okay? Just give the world, and I'll handle Derek for ya." Link pounded his fist into his palm to make his point.

"Thanks, Link," Susan smiled. "No, I'm fine. I was just a little thrown by the question. Should have realised Derek wouldn't just slink away to Fresno and forget how I humiliated him."

"And you sure did," Link grinned. "Nobody screws with a monster!"

"Except other monsters!" Bob said happily.

"And me," Monger growled, "if you don't move yer keisters."

Susan headed back along to the Ellipse, passing the Reflecting Pond, reflecting on her own thoughts and emotions. Why was it that it hadn't been the accusation of infidelity, but the accusation that she was in love with Cockroach, that had so disturbed her? Susan would freely admit to loving the cultured yet awkward scientist. He was a friend, a mentor, like a favourite uncle. But was there something more there? The previous night, when she and him were alone in her tent, she had felt something a bit different. Were her feelings just a little bit…romantic? No, no, that was silly. And ultimately futile, Susan knew. It was best she not even think about the possibility. As hard as it was to avoid….

* * *

Lunch was a gigantic paella, eaten in the privacy of Susan's circus tent with just the Monster Force team, Freer, and Sackler. Plus a few minor ranks who waited on them, and a couple of people from the Pentagon's publicity department. They were all seated at a long table, with Susan, her parents, and Cockroach on one side, the rest on the other. Each person had their own bowl, and took as much of the food as they wanted.

"Ah, I love seafood," Link sighed as he sucked the eye out of a fish head. "I hope we get a mission to Japan one of these days. And Insecto could visit her old home town…"

"I'm not entirely sure they'd welcome her back," Cockroach noted. He had turned up his nose at the paella and was delicately chewing on banana peels.

"Can she fly all the way there?" Bob asked. He quickly shot out a blobby hand and snuck a fish from Link's plate, which he immediately absorbed.

"Well, they got her to the States, didn't they?" Link asked. "Boat, whatever. If they really wanted to, they could."

"I don't know if I'd like to go to Japan," Susan said. "I mean I would, but it's probably even more cramped than San Francisco."

"Where do you want to go, my dear?" Cockroach asked.

"Right now? To be honest, home. It's all been a bit much."

"You're welcome home any time, honey," her mother said. "The army's going to help subsidise buying a new house in the country, and build a special barn for you."

"Just don't call it a barn, please," Susan pleaded. "Makes me feel like livestock. Still, it's nice of the army to do this. It would be hard to afford otherwise."

"Well, the funny thing is," Monger explained, "you're apparently covered by the Americans With Disabilities Act."

"Huh?" Susan's jaw dropped.

Monger scratched his chin. "Yeah, turns out you're legally handicapped. Your physical restrictions, like not being able to drive, live in normal housing, that sort of thing, mean you're covered."

"So does that mean MF-1 gets one of those handicapped stickers?" Link asked. "So we can land wherever we like? Because that would be so cool."

"Doesn't apply to the armed forces," Monger told him. "But since your parents' home in Modesto is still your legal domicile," he added to Susan, "they're eligible for subsidies, based on the extent of your, ah, disabilities. And since you literally cannot go inside, you qualify for the highest rate."

Another "Huh" was all Susan could manage. She looked down at Monger like he was slightly potty.

Her father was grinning widely. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Susie Q! It saves us a pretty packet!"

"Why does your Daddy call you Susie Q?" Bob asked. "Is Q your middle name? Is your middle name Quinnlynn or Quella or something?"

Susan laughed. "No, my middle name is the very plain Jane. Susie Q is the name of a song from when Daddy was a kid or something."

"It's by Dale Hawkins, and it's a rockabilly classic," her father explained. "It was the song playing when Susan's mother and I had our first dance, and we decided that if we ever got married and had a daughter, we'd name her after the song, as a reminder of our love."

"Oh, that's so romantic," Cockroach said. "Isn't it, General?"

"Is it? Sorry, I, er, I got a bit of, uh, rice stuck in my nose," Monger said, blowing it loudly. "Oh yeah, very sweet and sappy, I'm sure. Humph."

"Her father wanted to call her 'Susie Q' officially, but I put my foot down," her mother added.

"You know, just give me a minute here," Cockroach said, whipping out his tablet. He quickly flipped through some files and websites, and in a minute the tent was filled with the slightly tinny sounds of the timeless song.

Her father laughed, and jumped up. "Come on, my Susie Q! Let's dance like we used to when you were a little kid!"

Susan laughed, and got up from her cross-legged position. She and her father moved out to the open area of the tent behind where she had been sitting, and started dancing as the lyrics started.

_Oh Susie Q,  
Oh Susie Q,  
Oh Susie Q, baby I love you, Susie Q.  
I like the way you walk,  
I like the way you talk,  
I like the way you walk, I like the way you talk, Susie Q…_

Susan was careful not to move her feet too much as she gyrated in time to the music, her white hair changing to tints of red and blue from light reflecting off the coloured circus tent roof just above her head. Monger motioned with his finger, and the army photographer immediately started snapping away discretely.

"Are you going to join them, Doc?" Bob asked, grooving in place. "You like to dance."

Cockroach shook his head. "Tempted, but no. This is just for Susan and her father." Instead, he contented himself with tapping his foot in time to the music, and trying to keep his feelings in check. She was so beautiful, so sweet… and such a terribly bad dancer. But that was Susan all over, he realised. If someone needed her, she'd be there for them. And it didn't matter how good she was at it—she would just want to do what she could.

All too soon the brief song was over.

"Play it again, Doc," Susan asked quietly.

As Cockroach restarted the song, she reached down and let her father slide into her palm, then lifted him high. Holding her father securely around the waist with her other hand, the two of them danced gently around the tent.

The song ended, and she brought him close to her and lightly kissed him on the top of his head.

"I miss being able to hold you, my lovely baby girl," he told her, stroking her damp cheeks.

"Oh Daddy too, Oh Daddy too, I love you, Daddy too," she sung softly, tears falling.

* * *

**NON-MUSICAL NOTES:** Well, all facts about the National Mall and the monuments are accurate, including the urban legend about Lincoln's hands.

Jefferson is also my favourite of the US Presidents, and I have even been out to Monticello, which is very interesting and I highly recommend it (way better than Mt. Vernon frankly). And yes, that bit about his grave is accurate as well.

Susan can indeed fit inside the Lincoln Memorial. Its interior height is 60 feet, so she has room to spare. The columns are 44 feet high, so she will have to duck to enter, however.

The _Art of MvA_ implies that Dr C's PhD is in literature, though I'm not sure how canon that is, and seems problematic. Since he claimed his PhD is in dance, I have given him an MFA (Master of Fine Arts) in dance. Footlights College does not exist of course, but Hugh Laurie was in the Cambridge Footlights comedy society, so I have used that for his alma mater. The Quantum Physics of Living Matter Symposium is also real, but not at the Royal Society.

The _Modesto Bee_ is a real, and quite old, newspaper.

While no real giants are covered by the ADA, I thought it would be funny if Susan was, for the silly bureaucratic reasons given. After all, in those senses, she _is_ handicapped...

I'm pretty sure everyone who cares enough about MvA to be reading fanfic so long after the movie came out already know what the "Susie Q" thing references, but just in case, well, that's what it references.I quite like the idea of her being called that by her father for the reasons I gave, rather than just random coincidence. Also, I didn't want to given Susan a very distinctive middle name at all. It's important that pre-Ginormica she was not distinctive in any way at all.

The next chapter could use a little more fine-tuning, but I'm up to about Ch. 12 so still have a decent buffer. Reviews and comments are always very welcome, of course...

If anyone's interested, I have posted a link on my Profile page to a photoshopped image or two of Susan and the others at the Lincoln Memorial (it's in Photobucket, but I can't post links directly here).

[Posted 16 Feb 2013]


	7. Touching Base

**7. Touching Base**

The giant plane roared into the air, then banked left and headed for Nevada. Inside, Susan was reclining on her bed, her head nearly brushing the roof, and nibbling on little bits of chocolate; entire full-sized bars that Cockroach was busy unwrapping for her.

"How long until we arrive?" she asked.

"About five hours," Monger told her. "I've got all the day's newspapers, and a recording of your interview with Dale Litterman if you'd like to see it.

"Maybe later," Susan said, a bit pink. "It'd be very embarrassing."

"I'll take those papers, General," Cockroach informed him. Monger handed him the pile, and headed off as the insect-headed man started flipping through them.

"_New York Times_…inside. _New York Post_, front cover. _Washington Post_, front cover, What? _The Onion_? What was Monger thinking? _USA Today_, ooh, nice big shot of us all."

"Can I see?" Susan asked. Cockroach held the paper up. "Sweet, it's us all at the Washington Monument. Definitely keep that one!"

"Did you enjoy our trip to your nation's capital, my dear?" he asked, putting the papers aside.

Susan hesitated. "Enjoy? I'm not sure I'd use that exact word," she said. "It was interesting, and certainly being awarded these medals, and meeting the president, and all that—that was amazing. And seeing my parents. That was great. Pity it was so short, though. Dad said they're going to stick around in DC a couple of days and do some sightseeing, since the government's paying. Wish I could… But never mind!" she said brightly, not wanting to dampen her mood. "I'll see them when we get back."

"Which part of the visit did you like the best?" Bob asked. "I liked the dinner with Mr Obanana. He was funny. And I think he gave me his real phone number."

"That's Obama, not Obanana," Link growled.

"You sure?" Bob asked. "You mean his father wasn't a banana? I thought we were related, mine being a tomato."

Susan laughed. "I don't think so, Bob."

"So what about you?" Cockroach asked her. "Which part did you enjoy the most?"

"When I was dancing with Daddy, like I used to do," she said. "I hadn't done that since I was in middle school, or even younger. What about you, Doc? What did you like? Let me guess—the dull-ass tour of the outside of buildings we couldn't go into?" she joked, looking at his face.

_That night in your tent, when you held me close and I caressed your soft, beautiful cheek_, Cockroach wanted to say. "Uh, yes, I suppose it would have been the dull-ass tour…" he said quietly, burying his face in the _New York Times_. "You know me…"

"Yes, I know you very well…" Susan replied even more quietly.

* * *

"Oh, it is good to be back!" Link exclaimed. "Miss me, big buddy?"

Insecto roared, and stamped one of her hind legs as Link scrambled up the enormous moth.

"Yes, I know, you were so lonely here. What did you do all day while we were gone?"

Insecto screeched something.

"You had a friend to visit?" Link asked. "Who?"

Another rumbling screech.

"What little girl?"

"Who? You mean Amy?" Susan asked. Insecto thumped her foot on the ground. "Oh, that's so sweet! I'm glad she's making friends with you all, and keeping you company. Let me give you a big cuddle, you cutesy-wutesy little—big bundle of fuzzy wuzzy fluff!"

She allowed Insectosaurus to lift her up with one of her legs to where she could get a good grip on the supersized moth's soft, downy fur. There was nothing like it. Even the biggest cat couldn't compare. It was hard to remember the sheer terror she had felt on seeing the giant insect for the first time.

Cockroach smiled at her innocent happiness, and headed to his lab. He wanted to start working on the idea he had had back in DC. Two nights away from anything but the most rudimentary facilities were two nights more than he was happy with.

* * *

The next morning Susan headed out to breakfast, yawning.

"Hiya Doc," she said, catching sight of the half-insect scientist. Then her eyes and jaw dropped open. Cockroach was smiling at her, from her height. For a second she thought she had shrunk again, but no, the room was the same size it always was. But somehow Cockroach was now fifty feet tall.

"Good morning, my dear," he said. "I'm glad to see I still have the capacity to surprise you."

"How the…" Susan rubbed her eyes and looked closer. There was something not quite right. Then she laughed. It was a projection on the wall. She could see the metal seams through it. Susan moved up to the giant Cockroach, and stood beside it.

"Okay, who's taller?" she asked, grinning.

"Just a moment…" Cockroach said from his lab, adjusting a control in a complicated device that looked like it was made from used pineapple tins, fencing wire, Christmas lights, and the electron gun from an old CRT television. His image immediately doubled in size. "Ahem. I think I am…"

"Doc, that's brilliant. But a little _too_ large. I like my men to be just a couple of inches taller than me—well, in this case, a couple of feet."

"Shrinking to fifty-two feet," Cockroach said, making another adjustment to his controls.

"Perfect!" Susan exclaimed. "Stick out your hand."

Cockroach did so, and the image stuck out its own hand. Susan pretended to take it, and let Cockroach appear to carry it to his mouth and kiss it gently. Then he started dancing, just a gentle waltz, and Susan pretended the image was leading her.

Suddenly there was a sharp crack, and the cathode-ray tube started smoking. The image of Cockroach flickered and was gone.

"Bugger," he said with feeling. "That was my last CRT gun too. They're not as easy to get as they used to be."

"Ah well," Susan said with a smile. "It was a nice thought. And it was cool seeing you life-size—I'm sorry, I meant my size. But I can always do this, you know."

She bent down to lower her head to the height of Cockroach's lab, and moved so her face was about a foot and a half away from him, with her eyes slightly lower than his head.

"There. Now you look… Now I look cross-eyed." She shut one eye. "There you are. A mighty hero, tall and proud."

Cockroach saluted, barely suppressing a grin. "Still, it's not quite the same, is it?" he admitted, looking serious again.

"How do I look?" Link asked, bounding up to join Cockroach before Susan could reply.

Susan opened both eyes wide, and moved in until she was almost touching him, letting her eyes cross completely. "Boo!" she suddenly whispered, jerking her face forwards. Link jumped back in surprise.

"Hey! No fair!" he protested. "You know how scary you can be when you move fast so close?"

"Of course," Susan grinned. "Why'd ya think I did it? But you're not scared of me, are you?"

"Course not, dopey," Link protested. "I just didn't want to end up in your big mouth by mistake!"

"That looked like fun!" Bob cried. "My turn next! Boo me!"

Susan laughed, and got as close to Bob as she could. "Look, squirrel!" she called.

"Where?" Bob asked, looking around.

"Boo!" Susan suddenly shouted. Bob just sat there.

"You're supposed to be scared, Bob," Susan said. "You're supposed to leap back in surprise."

"But I knew you were going to do that," Bob explained.

"Well… of course you did! You asked me to!" Susan sighed. Living with Bob was sometimes a little frustrating. His total lack of guile also meant that jokes didn't work very well on him: he was unable to see the difference between the outward meaning and the real, internal meaning. But it also meant he was an absolute straight shooter: he never gently teased her, like Link, or flattered her, like Cockroach. She knew exactly where she stood with him. Which wasn't always the case with the others. Sometimes it was hard to know exactly what her friends were thinking. Especially Cockroach….

* * *

After breakfast, Monger flew in on his jetpack, landing by Susan's empty plate.

"Okay Monsters," he announced. "Now that you're full, official members of the United States Officer Corps, you're going to need to act like it. No more playing cards and watching television all day! You were lucky last time with Gallaxhar. He was cocky and overconfident. You were almost defeated by the robot, however—if Ginormica hadn't been there, you would have lost badly. You are flabby, fat and lazy! Starting next Monday at oh-nine hundred hours, for five hours a day, four days a week, you will undergo physical training and study tactics, command, and the other areas required of a major in the United States Army!"

"You're kidding," Link gasped. "Work? Study?"

"How can you educate Bob?" Cockroach asked. "He doesn't have a brain."

"Top scientists are working on this problem. Each curriculum will be tailored to your particular gifts and abilities. Cockroach, you will be mainly learning teamwork, command decision-making, military tactics and strategies, and so on. Link, you will be learning martial arts. Make use of your speed and strength. Bob... to be determined. Ginormica, you will share some of Link's martial arts courses, adapted for your size, and also some of Cockroach's command courses."

"This is going to interfere badly with my research and experiments, General," Cockroach said in an annoyed voice.

"This is also going to help save the planet next time it is under threat," Monger countered. "You will still have plenty of time for experiments, especially more weapons development. I want to give you access to the alien ship—"

"Yes!" Cockroach shouted. Monger held up a hand.

"As I was saying, I want to give you access, but it's not my decision to make. I'm in charge of monsters. Alien artifacts are… in a, er, different section. So you will need to demonstrate you can be trusted with them."

"Smeg," Cockroach said loudly.

"I don't mind the training, General," Susan said. "It'll give me something to do. And Doc's been teaching me a few things anyway. Not tactics or anything though."

"We know he has," Monger said. "And a good grounding in literature, science, and philosophy is very important in command. You're building up a solid foundation."

"When are you going to test my full abilities?" Susan asked.

"In a day or two," Monger said. "We want to give you another complete physical as well."

Susan groaned.

"It won't be nearly as invasive as the first, don't worry. We just want to make sure that your parameters haven't changed from the first time the quantonium was inside you. And this time, Doc, you won't need to hack in and steal the data. Providing, however, that Ginormica gives you permission to view it, of course. It being her personal data and all."

Cockroach suddenly found the floor of absorbing interest, and Susan laughed.

"Don't worry, Doc—I hereby give you permission to look at any of my physical data you like."

"Thank you, my dear…"

"So just what is it this Monster Force will be doing all day, General?" Link asked. "I can't see that many alien invasions happening."

"No indeed. You will be deployed, as previously, on certain missions that call for your unique abilities, and in addition we will be launching an expansion of the Monster Force, recruiting new members from the rest of the country, with potential international expansion in the future."

"And by recruiting, do you mean kidnapping?" Cockroach asked. "As none of us remember ever actually being _asked_, after all…"

"All fair and above-board now," Monger assured him, raising his palm. "Well, apart from those we need to incarcerate to protect society."

"Protect?" Susan asked sceptically. "That's the excuse you used with me, I recall…"

"And I told you, most monsters are indeed a danger. Even if it's because they're persecuted and scared, and lash out, they're still a danger. But we will not be locking up any monster who has not harmed anyone. I give you my word as an officer in the United States Army."

"Very well," Susan said, somewhat mollified. She knew Monger took oaths and honour extremely seriously.

"What sort of new recruits do you think we will get?" Bob asked. "More gelatinous ones, I hope."

"I for one look forward to more, uh, scientifically inclined ones," Cockroach said.

"And I'd like another girl, to balance out all you guys," Susan said.

"Hey, I think you on your own are more than enough balance for the rest of us put together," Link joked, then laughed as he dodged Susan's hand and scooted for his pool.

* * *

A couple of days later, Cockroach was working on a new theory of perpetual motion using green and red rubber bands when Susan came into the common room.

"Hey guys," she called. "Notice anything different?"

"No," Cockroach said, glancing briefly at her. "Have you shrunk a foot?"

"Don't be obtuse, Doc," Link growled. "Look at her clothes! Lookin' good, girl!"

"Thank you," Susan said, doing a quick pirouette. "Levis sent me these cute jeans! And the shirt is from Gap. What do you think?"

"Uh, they… The jeans look a little tight," Cockroach suggested, taking a proper look.

"They're supposed to be tight," Susan said. "At least around my hips and thighs. I think they did a pretty good job, considering they're custom-made without any fittings. They feel really good, too—when you're nine times normal size, even denim feels almost like satin. And this cotton shirt is like the sheerest silk. It's so light!"

"Are you supposed to wear it like that?" Bob asked.

"Like what?" Susan asked back, glancing down. "Oh, tied at the bottom. I thought I might try showing a bit of midriff. Since I can't really wear skirts any more, at least not unless I don't mind everyone seeing my panties, I thought this was a nice way to look a bit more feminine. Less like a soldier."

"It works wonderfully, my dear," Cockroach assured her. "You look… exquisitely feminine."

"Now I just need a decent pair of shoes," Susan said, flopping down on the couch and putting her bare feet on her table. She wiggled her toes, and Link mimed holding his nose and choking.

"Very funny," Susan said, moving one huge foot over to where he was standing. He grabbed it and peered at her from over her toes. Susan wiggled them again, trying to shake him off.

Bob jumped on the other one, squishing around her toes.

"Are you my Prince Charming?" she asked Link, leaning back with her hands behind her head and grinning. "You must, as that attractive blue thing is clearly my gooey glass slipper! After all, I am the only one here with feet so delicate and lady-like! They're a mere six and a half feet long!"

Then she looked serious. "I wish I did have some nice shoes. Oh well. I really shouldn't complain. I mean I got three new pairs of jeans for free, and five shirts. And Monger says the first of the new Ginormibars is going to arrive from Ghirardelli tomorrow."

"Sounds like things are going well," Cockroach noted with a slight smile.

"Yeah, I guess they are. I miss being able to spend time with my parents and old friends, but I've got you guys, I've got my freedom, the world is getting used to the idea that there are such things as monsters…"

"And we all got medals," Bob added. "What did you do with yours? I was going to eat mine, but Monger said it wasn't food. I thought it was like those chocolate coins covered in gold foil. I love those. Especially the foil. It goes all tingly inside me."

"Mine's actually hanging in my parents' house," Susan said. "Monger said it would be okay to leave it with them, so long as I could easily get it for ceremonial occasions."

"I just hope there won't be too many more of those," Link groused.

"Nope, and Monger's keeping the press at arm's length as well. Only a few interviews. Helps living on a top secret base—the paparazzi will get shot at if they try to sneak in." She grinned at that.

"Yes, as Monger said in Washington, sometimes we need to keep things secret for their protection," Cockroach mused.

"Hmm." Susan looked over at her friend. "You know what… Talking of secrets, what's yours?"

He started. "Wh—what do you mean?"

"I've been so used to calling you 'Cockroach,' or mainly just 'Doc' actually, that I hadn't really clicked that it couldn't be your real name. I mean Link and Bob don't have normal names as they're born monsters, but you and I weren't. So what's your real name, then?"

"Oh, my real name? That's easy enough. It's actually Coqueroche."

"No, your real, original name. Not 'Cockroach,' the name you were born with."

"As I said, it's Coqueroche." He spelt it out for her. "Jacques-Yves Coqueroche. It's French in origin. And no, it does not mean 'cockroach'—that's _cancrelat_ in French. It literally means 'shell rock'."

"It's still an amazing coincidence," Susan said suspiciously. "Are you joshing me?"

"Taking the mickey? No, my dear, I am not. And it would be an amazing coincidence indeed, if the two facts weren't related. But the truth is I started researching etymology and cockroaches thanks to my name. It was only later that I realised their potential for withstanding nuclear attacks, and shifted from biology to biophysics. So I'm actually, in a way, called Doctor Cockroach because my name is Doctor Coqueroche."

Susan blinked. "That is very confusing."

"It is," he agreed pleasantly. "Which is why I've never bothered trying to get people to call me by my real name. Hell, they were spelling it Cockroach long before the US government ever got their hands on me."

"I suppose they would," Susan admitted. "Sorry."

"Nothing at all for you to apologise for," he assured her. "Besides, I've never really regretted the transformation. I've regretted some of the things I did, uh, as a monster, and a few things I lost, but on the whole, it's a plus. Can't see why anyone wouldn't want to be half-roach. A pity the government never saw it that way. I was all ready to… But enough about ancient history. So how'd you do in your physical? That was today, right?"

"Huh? My physical? Oh, Monger and the medical team put me through some tests. I can run pretty fast: ninety, a hundred miles an hour, hitting up to one-twenty five when I sprint."

"Bloody hell! A hundred and twenty five miles an hour?"

"Apparently the quantonium helps out there too—gives me a little more speed than I otherwise would have. There's one problem with moving that fast, though."

"Ah—stopping, I'll bet."

Susan laughed. "Yep. When twelve tons of Ginormica comes barrelling down on you at over a hundred miles an hour… _You_ are going to be the one who has to move. Never mind: Monger said they can rebuilt that warehouse easily, and it didn't contain anything important." She stretched. "I'm feeling cooped up. Hey Linkster, you fancy a swim?"

"Yeah, be good to get some exercise," he said, scratching his bare chest.

"Okay, we'll see you guys later," Susan said as they headed out. Cockroach looked after them, feeling strange. He hated going outside in the dry, hot desert air, and hated water, but he suddenly realised what he was feeling was a slight twinge of envy. He had a sudden image of it being him out there with her, playing and laughing in the water together, her beautiful strong body sparkling as a million droplets caught the sun…

* * *

That evening, after yet another video interview, this time with Cockroach, on a BBC One show called _Breakfast_, Susan was flipping through the range of movies on offer when she noticed a new one. It was called _Attack of the Fifty Foot Woman. _For a moment, she thought it was about her, but then realised it was made in 1958. Curious, she took a look. She wasn't that fond of black and white movies, and it was horrendously cheaply made. It also took ages to get going. But the end left her feeling rather depressed. The woman in the movie had been betrayed by her husband, and then killed. The parallels were slightly disturbing.

"That was a long time ago, Susan," Cockroach said softly from his lab.

Susan started. "When—how long have you been watching?"

"Just the climax," he told her. "It's not the first time I've seen this film. Poor Nancy."

"Yeah, well, it's only a movie," Susan said.

"No. Nancy Archer was a real person," Cockroach said sadly.

"Real?" Susan gasped. "You can't be—it can't be real! I mean, this was a cheesy B movie from the 1950s, right?"

"This movie was, yes," Cockroach said. "But this was more or less a true story. Nancy Archer was real. What happened to her—and her fate—was real. Some of those shots were real file footage taken from her rampage. I've often wondered if Nancy had been infused with quantonium as well. It was, you remember, an alien being that made her the way she was."

"My God," Susan said. She looked at her hands. They were shaking. She hugged herself tightly.

"What's the matter, my dear?" Cockroach asked, his face full of concern.

"I just thought—that could have been me," Susan said. "If I hadn't been taken here, and met you guys… If I hadn't had you guys to help me… If I'd got big, and got angry and gone on a rampage, would I have been… killed?"

Cockroach shook his massive head. "No. Only if it were absolutely vital. They'd have used tranquilizers, like they did when you were first captured. In fact, poor Nancy was one of the impetuses for creating the Monster Containment Facility. The 1950s saw a huge rise in the number of monsters created or discovered in the States. Two reasons for this were the above-ground nuclear testing that was going on—there was also a bit of an ant problem, I remember, which I was involved with—and it was just after our first visit by aliens."

"It was?" Susan gasped. "When?"

"1947, Roswell. They were attracted by the use of atomic weaponry in Japan two years previously."

"Rene always swore there were aliens being kept at Area 51. Are there?"

"No, definitely not," Cockroach assured her. "These days Groom Lake is merely an advanced weapons research and testing facility."

"Oh, so no aliens there?" Susan wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed.

"No. When too many people got curious about Area 51, they were moved to Area 52 about twenty years ago."

"Wait—Area 52? You mean here? There are aliens in this base?" Susan couldn't believe her ears.

"I haven't seen them, I have no idea where they are, or even if they are alive," Cockroach told her. "This base is very extensive, and the Monster Containment Facility is only part of it. There are secrets within secrets here, buried deep in the earth."

Susan sat back, stunned. "I guess I owe Rene an apology," she eventually said, not quite knowing how to respond. "I don't suppose there's any way Monger will ever confirm any of this, of course."

"Of course not," Cockroach agreed. "I pieced together what I could from the tiniest fragments of clues, and it has taken me decades to get this far. Why the secrets that are buried beneath us in this base need to be kept so secure I have no idea. But they are. Someone, somewhere, is very, very afraid of what will happen once people know the truth…."

.

* * *

**NOTES:** Mainly just a few short vignettes to give a breathing space before the next part, and introduce a few themes and issues that will feature later on. I figured Monger would want them to start acting more like professionals, get them in better shape. Expanding the Monster Force also paves the way for some new monsters, theoretically. There is a role I have in mind for a new monster, for the effects on Susan...

Cockroach's real name: most fics give him names based on _The Fly_ movies, or their actors, which is fair enough. But, having used the "Jacques-Yves" bit from the _Art of MvA_ earlier, I decided to go with a very pseudo-Francophone spelling of "cockroach." Apparently "coque" and "roche" do mean what I say they mean.

Susan's calculated running speed using a giantess calculator is a hair under 90 mph. I boosted that with her extra strength slightly to make her dash at up to an even 200 kph. Which is pretty freaky really. No wonder it's so hard to stop...

Having established earlier than Nancy Archer was real, and that the monster rampage footage from the monsters was reused as films, I decided to have Susan come across the original movie. It would be interesting if Nancy really were quantonium-enhanced. What does the government _really_ know about it? And about aliens, for that matter...? What secrets does Area 52 hold? This, incidentally, was inspired in part by an early plan in _Art of MvA_ that shows a huge, multi-level base of which the Monster Area is just one part.

And of course reviews, comments, critiques, and all that are gladly invited...NB: Very busy in Real Life at the moment, so work on the story is proceeding a little slower, but it will not be stopped. I'm enjoying writing it too much for that...

[posted 19 Feb 2013]


	8. Home Town Girl

**8. Home Town Girl**

A week after their return, Susan got a call from her parents. She, and the rest of the monsters, had now been issued with their own cellphones: Susan's was a special custom-built model with a 32-inch flat-screen TV as the display. Her ringtone was the _Susie Q_ song.

"Hi Daddy!"

"Hello darling. Just wanted to let you know, we've moved house. We're on Church Street now, not too far out of Empire, with a couple of acres of land, enough for that big insect of yours."

"She's not my insect, Daddy," Susan said with a laugh. "If anything, she's Link's, but she's not a pet or anything."

"No, no, I'm sure she isn't," her father agreed. "Anyway, the barn-–sorry, the outhouse—no, wait, I mean the annex—is finished, and it's also got rooms for all your, uh, friends to come and stay. Sixty foot ceilings! It's like a blimmin' cathedral! Here's your mother for you. She's been hovering."

"Susan? How are you dear?"

"I'm fine, Mom."

"We've got such a huge collection of press reports about you now, you know. Your father has put them all up on the living room wall—just about covers the entire wall. Everyone's so proud of you. When are you coming for a visit?"

"As soon as I can," Susan promised. "Monger says I can apply for leave any time. How about this weekend? I'll invite Mindy and the others over, and we can have a sleepover!"

"Wonderful, darling. Uh, will your other, er, friends be coming?"

"Nope, just me. We'll have a girls' night out. Or a girls' night in, rather."

"What should I do about groceries?" her mother asked.

"Uh… I think we'll just order pizzas," Susan said. "I'll need about ten. And wine. Get in a couple of gallons."

"Gallons!" her mother gasped. "And ten pizzas?"

"Uh, yeah, I, well, I eat a lot more than I used to," Susan admitted.

"I suppose you would, at that…"

"Aren't you glad the army pays for my groceries?" Susan asked, laughing.

"Not if we don't get to see you again, honey," her mother said.

"Don't worry, you will—I'm a free woman now!"

The moment she was off the phone, Susan rang up the general.

"General, Susan—okay, Ginormica—here. Look, would you mind if I visited my parents this weekend?"

"This weekend? Permission granted, providing nothing comes up," the general said. "You'll need the airlifter, right? I'll have someone type up the forms, and then you can sign them."

"How?" Susan asked. "I doubt I could hold a pen very well."

"Thumbprint will do," the general said. "Guess I should see about gettin' you some office supplies. We also need to arrange payments of your salary—we're pegging you as O-4 with ten years of service, so that's about $6,500 a month. Nearly $80,000 a year."

"Sweet," Susan said. "Way more than my old job."

"Wait 'til you become a general," Monger said. Susan could almost hear the smirk. "Anyway, I'll send someone down with the forms, and you can tell him what time you'll leave, and when you'll be back. What about a police escort?"

"Do you think that will be necessary? My parents are out in the country now."

"I'll arrange for a squad car to travel ahead of you, just in case," Monger told her. "You never know."

"I suppose I can live with that," Susan acquiesced. "Thanks! See ya."

"You're not supposed to-–" he started to say, but Susan had already hung up. She headed into her room and turned on her computer. In a few minutes she had sent emails to Mindy, Rene, and Liz, inviting them to her parents' new house that Saturday.

Dancing a little clumsily, she skipped out into the monster common room, and threw herself down on her sofa. It protested as her twelve-ton weight crashed on it, but the solid construction held.

"You're very chipper, my dear," Cockroach observed, looking up from his lab table.

"Very," she agreed. "I'm going to visit my parents this weekend, and stay overnight."

"Well, it should certainly be a more pleasant trip to Modesto than last time," he noted.

"Without Derek, definitely," Susan agreed, smiling. She gazed up at Cockroach, busy working on something, and sighed contentedly. Sometimes, not all that often, life was really good.

* * *

"We're about to land, Major," the captain called over the intercom.

"Thanks," Susan called back.

"Ma'am, General Monger wants you to take Finch Rd from the airport, out to Codoni Ave, then head up," the lieutenant riding with her informed her. "Avoiding the main traffic routes. And watch for power lines—you'll need to duck under a fair few. You don't want to get zapped, and even if you can take it now, you'll still cut off power to all the neighbours."

"Good point," Susan admitted. "Oh, I can't wait!"

"Enjoy your rest, Major," the lieutenant said as the plane bumped down. "You've made all of us in the Monster Force unit proud."

"Uh, thanks," Susan said with a smile. It was strange to think that there were other people involved in their unit—the facility had been designed to cleanly separate the monsters from their human captors, so most of the time there was no interaction at all. Monger was the only normal human they saw regularly, which Susan found a little lonely at times.

She peered out the tiny window in anticipation, but there was not a lot to see. Modesto County Airport wasn't very big anyway. The plane slowly taxied along to the south end of the apron, and the big front door swung open. She got out, and stretched. While it was nice being able to lie down inside, being unable to stand or even sit properly was a little awkward.

"Major, your escort is just over the security fence. We'll be staying at the Microtel Inn & Suites out near Route 99. Your return is scheduled for 16:00 hours tomorrow. If you need to return early for any reason, we will need an hour's notice. Enjoy your stay!"

"Thanks! I will!" Susan called. She glanced around, seeing the waiting police car, and waved at the policeman.

"Hi Susan!"

Susan took a closer look at the policeman.

"Uncle Rick?"

"None other! As soon as I heard someone was needed to act as escort for Modesto's very own home-grown hero, I volunteered! Wow, you're impressive! And to think I can remember carrying you in my arms as a baby!"

"It's great to see you again," she said. "Sorry about the wedding being ruined and all."

"Don't worry about that," he grinned, reaching up to shake Susan's finger. "It was certainly unforgettable! And it seems like you were better off without that jerk anyway."

"Yeah, I was," she agreed. "Still, it was hard being dumped."

"I should imagine that compared to all the other things that have happened to you, and fighting robots and aliens and all that, it was pretty mild in comparison," her uncle suggested as he started the police cruiser up and turned its lights on. They headed out along Finch Road.

"Not really, no," Susan admitted. "Shouldn't you be keeping an eye on the road and not me?"

"Sorry! By the way, how fast are you happy with?"

"Stick to about 25 miles an hour, if you can. I could run, but I need to watch out for power lines."

"One coming up!" he said. Her uncle took the car into the middle of the intersection, siren screaming a warning, and hopped out, holding up his hands to stop any traffic. Susan carefully bent down as low as she could, and ducked underneath.

* * *

"Steve! Look!"

"What's up, Dan?"

The young teen addressed as Dan stopped his bike and pointed down the road. "I saw her! It was her! She's here!"

"Woah, dude, calm down. Who'd ya see?" Steve asked him. He was the same age as Dan, around fourteen.

"Ginormica, man! The giantess!"

"Ginormica? The one from the news? Sweet!"

"I gotta see her for real, man! The news guy said she's like, fifty effing feet tall! You coming, Bill?"

"Hell yeah!" Bill answered. "She took out that alien ship, right?"

"And she went to our high school! God, Mrs Craven was going on and on about her the other day in Social Studies! She used to be her teacher," Dan explained.

"Hey, where'd she get to?"

"She's moving fast—come on, or we'll lose her!"

"There she is! On Finch!"

"Where?" Bill asked.

"There! How can you miss a fifty-foot giant?"

"Oh, yeah—oh my God! Look at the size of her!" Steve cried.

The three young boys pedalled hard to make it down to Finch Rd before she passed. Skidding around the corner, they came face to foot with a huge shoe.

"Keep back, kids," the policeman said, braking his car.

"Ginormica! Miss!" Steve called.

The giantess stopped, and looked down.

"Hello boys," she said in a deep, smooth voice. "Mind you don't get hurt."

"We will! We just want to say, we saw you on the news, and we think you're fantastic!"

"Yeah, you were awesome!"

Ginormica smiled down at them. "Thanks. It wasn't just me, mind."

"Yeah, the Link's really cool too," one of the boys said. "Uh, miss, would you—could we get your autograph? Please?"

He held out a paper pad and a pen.

"You know, you're the first people who have ever wanted my autograph. I'd be honoured," Ginormica said. She bent down on one knee, and reached out her right hand. Steve held out the pen, and she managed to take it between her fingertip and thumb as he held the pad high for her.

"Could you make it out to Steve, Bill, and Dan, please? And sign it Ginormica, Hero of Modesto!"

"Not sure about 'Hero' you know. How about just 'Ginormica'?" she suggested.

"Yeah, that's fine," Bill said. "Oh wow, look at her size! Her hands are bigger than I am!"

The giantess held the pen delicately between her fingertips and carefully scrawled 'Dear Steve, Bill, and Dan. Don't let anyone sell you short. Love, Ginormica' in large awkward letters on the paper. Then she gave the pen back, and let the three boys shake her finger and get photos.

"Wow, thanks so much!" they all cried. "You are so awesome! You kick alien butt!"

"Yeah, you know, I actually think I did kick his butt when I was fighting him," Ginormica said with a low rumbling laugh. "It was a pretty weak butt, as it turned out. Anyway, I gotta go. You guys take care, okay?"

"Thanks so much!"

The three young boys stood and watched in awe as Ginormica rose to her full height, waved to them, and carried on down the road.

"Wow, she was so cool."

"And so hot, man. I think I'm in love!"

"You perve Dan! She'd never want a tiny wimp like you!"

"Or you, Bill!"

"Look at her though," Steve sighed. "It must be so fantastic to be her…."

* * *

Susan found it a fairly slow and uncomfortable trip, as there was a number of power lines she had to duck under. Each one needed care to ensure she didn't snap it. Luckily Monger had been right, and there were very few cars on the road. Many that were honked and waved as they passed, which Susan found very kind of them. As well as bit embarrassing. And a number of people even stopped to take photos, but her uncle chased away any that seemed to want to hang around. But she always stopped to sign autographs for the children.

Her parents' new house was only about five miles away, but it still took her nearly half an hour, thanks to all the holdups. She spotted it easily: there weren't many places with six-storey barns in the back yard.

"Susie Q!"

"Darling! Welcome home!"

"Daddy! Mom!"

"Hi bro," Rick said, pulling up and waving.

"Hey Rick. You coming in? Have a cold one?" Susan's father asked. Her uncle shook his head.

"Can't, sorry. On duty. But I can come round this evening if you like."

"Great, see you then!"

"Bye Uncle Rick!" Susan called, and was answered with a rapid toot and a wave from the police car as it sped off.

"So, darling, welcome to our new home!" her father said.

"But first come and give your mother a hug!"

Susan knelt down on the verge and held out her hands. Her parents allowed her to hold them gently, and hugged her thumbs.

"There she is!"

"Ginormica! This way!" came a voice. Susan looked around, startled. More autographs? Then a camera flash went off, and she spotted several more photographers, as well as a few video cameras.

"Any comments on your breakup with Derek Dietl? Is it true you physically attacked him?"

"No! Go away!"

"He claims you broke two of his ribs, and we have witnesses saying you dragged him out of the studio."

"I didn't! Well, maybe I did, but it wasn't like that! Please, leave me alone!"

Her father was on his cellphone immediately.

"Rick, get back here, we've got trouble." He hung up, and marched out to the small group of paparazzi. "Get the hell off my property! How dare you harass my daughter like that!"

"Susan, ignore them," her mother called up.

Susan was close to tears, and when she heard the siren from her uncle's squad car it sounded like the trumpets of the US Cavalry. The paparazzi melted away as the car came up.

"I'm really sorry about that," her uncle said. "I should have stuck around a bit longer. Hopefully they won't be back."

"Perhaps I shouldn't have come," Susan suggested.

"No, Susie, don't think that, not for a minute," her father told her. "They're gone now. It's just us. You're safe now. Wendy, you had something you wanted to tell our daughter?"

"Oh yes. Honey, I got you a present from Washington!" her mother called up.

"Not clothing I hope?" Susan asked. "I don't think they have my size."

"No dear, don't worry. Where is it, Carl? Ah, there it is. Susan dear, here you go."

"Oh, that's so cute!" Susan exclaimed. Her mother had handed her a tiny pink teddy bear, barely a foot tall, wearing a little pink and white t-shirt saying "I [_HEART_] DC."

"It's from the National Cherry Blossom Festival," her father explained. "Your mother thought you would like it."

"He's so adorable!" Susan squealed, rubbing her nose against the stuffed toy. She kissed her fingertip, then gently touched it to her mother's cheek. "I love you, Mom. And Dad, too, of course."

"Oh, and we ordered the pizzas and the wine, and used the special code Monger gave us, so it'll be charged back to the army," her father informed her.

"Just as well," her mother added. "You sure you want to eat ten whole pizzas?"

"I'm a big girl now," Susan grinned. "Are Mindy and the others here?"

"Not yet," her mother said. "Oh, Lizzie called—said she's sorry, but she can't make it."

"Oh," Susan said, her face falling a little. "Oh well, we'll catch up later," she added more brightly. "Now show me around the place!"

"Well, this is the new house," her father said, gesturing to the modernist, single-storey house. "We're going to redo the back area with lots of glass, lots of indoor-outdoor flow so you can still be a part of things. But come around here. This is your new room," he finished, gesturing.

Susan carefully walked forward. A massive pale cream structure, a hundred feet wide and nearly three hundred deep, stood in the back paddock, with the Monster Force symbol painted on the fifty-five foot door. She opened it, and stepped inside, wiping her feet on the huge mat.

"Wow!" she exclaimed. There was a huge chamber inside, done with the same sort of raised and stepped platforms as the common room at the monster base, but in shades of cream and peach rather than battleship grey, and with curtains and windows and areas of carpet. Wide balconies ran along all the walls at twenty-five feet and over forty feet up, and off to one side was a normal-sized spiral staircase leading to four small rooms, stacked on top of each other.

"Those are for guests," her father explained, rushing up one level and opening the door so Susan could peer in.

"Nice," she commented.

Her father carried on up to the higher encircling balcony, which put him at a good height to look at her directly.

"We really need an elevator," he said. "Phew."

"Dad, you need to lose weight. You're puffing."

"Now don't you start, dear," he said, heading around the room at a slow jog. "Through here is your bedroom."

Susan followed him carefully to a smaller room behind, where there was a sixty-foot bed, a table, and shelving.

"Oh, great! You moved everything from my old room in here!" she exclaimed. Then she spotted the old toys on the bed. "It's Pussy-boots!" Susan picked up a stuffed cat doll of Puss-in-Boots that had clearly seen better years, and held it tight. It was almost lost in her palm. She sat down on the bed, and looked over at her father. "I used to hug her so much when I was scared and lonely at night…."

"I know," her father said softly, climbing down the steps to the table opposite her. "I would often come in to check on you late at night, when you were fast asleep, and see you clutching her."

"I got very scared and lonely in prison," Susan said slowly. "I could have used Pussy-boots then."

"You can take her back with you, if you like," her father said.

"No, she can stay here, to remind you that I'll always come back."

"I'm going to hold you to that promise, Susie Q," her father said with a smile. "I knew you were always going to leave us, since you were getting married and all, but it's still hard to find your baby gone. I'm just glad you're back, even if it's only for one night."

"Hey, big girl!" came another voice.

"Rene! When did you get here?" Susan called down.

"Just now. Your mother said you were out here. Woah, this place is totally awesome! Hi Mr Murphy!"

"Hello Rene. Well, I think my work here is done. It is time to return to my home planet!" he joked

"You are so dorky sometimes, Dad. But I still love you," Susan smiled as her father waved, and headed back to the main house.

"Okay, girlfriend, you have got to give me all the goss," Rene said, standing on the floor and looking up at the massive bed. "How do I get up there, first?"

"Wanna take Air Susan?" the giantess grinned, lowering her hand.

"You kill me and I'll never speak to you again!" her friend warned as she gingerly sat down in Susan's palm. "My God!" she added as she found herself being rapidly lifted into the air. Susan brought her up onto her bed, where she lay down on her stomach and let Rene off near the pillow.

"Hold it," Rene said, removing her shoes. "That's better. These are new shoes, but still. God, your shoes are… not cool," she added, gazing up at Susan's feet, which were waving in the air.

"I'm still waiting for Prada to make pumps my size," Susan said. "But yeah, the army doesn't know fashion."

"I dunno… I kinda like a man in a nice uniform," Rene said. "Any hot army dudes at the base?"

"We don't actually see that many," Susan admitted. "Mostly it's just Monger. They keep us pretty segregated. It's how the base was designed, so they could hold hostile monsters."

"Monger's the general dude, right? I saw him on the Colbert Report. Funniest bit ever!" she said.

"I missed that," Susan admitted. "Did he… not get it?"

"He so, so did not get it," Rene informed her with a huge grin. She lay back on the bed, bouncing gently. "But Colbert was cool. Didn't let him make a fool of himself." Rene turned and looked at her friend. "I can't fracking believe what you guys did," she admitted. "Susan Murphy, of all people, saving the Earth from alien invasion!"

"What, you didn't think I could do it either?" Susan asked.

"Either? What do you mean?"

"Derek couldn't handle me being a hero," Susan told her. "It's one of the reasons he dumped me."

"Yeah, well, I always told ya you could have done better," Rene said. "Looks aren't everything. Well, not entirely everything. But hey, I think it's cool that you did it—I just never expected you would. And frankly nor did you. And this proves what I've been saying all along! There are aliens out there! Did you see any at the secret base?"

Susan shook her head. "Aren't they supposed to be at Area 51? We aren't housed there. We're in Area 52."

"But now we know that there are aliens," Rene pressed her, "you gotta admit, the government might be keeping some at Area 51."

"I wondered that myself," Susan admitted. "Monger won't say, of course."

"Hey you two!"

"Hey yourself, Mindy!" Rene shouted down. "You wanna come up?"

"Let's go out to the main room," Susan suggested. "I don't want to roll over and crush anyone on the bed."

"Right, spit it sister—how much do you weigh these days?" Rene asked as Susan lowered her to the floor.

"Okay, now promise you won't laugh, okay?" Susan demanded. "Both of you!"

"We swear," they said in unison, crossing their hearts.

"Okay, well, I weigh, uh, …nearly twelve tons."

"No effing way!" Mindy screeched. Rene just gasped.

"Yeah, it's not something I'm proud of," Susan admitted. "Even though the Doc says I'm actually way lighter than I should be. Thanks to the square cube law."

"The what law? Cubes are square, we know that."

"No, silly." Susan gave her friends a quick rundown of some of the basic physics issues that the Quantonium inside her negated. She recalled how confused she had been at first with the Doc's explanations, but now, looking at the blank faces of her friends, she felt rather like he must have. He had been able to make it so easy to understand, but she knew she didn't have his knack in that direction.

"Never mind," she said. "Long story short, I'm really tall and really heavy and really, really strong."

"Yeah, the pickle jar thing," Mindy laughed. "Yes, of course we saw your interview with Dale Litterman."

"I've been too embarrassed to take a look," Susan admitted.

"You came off pretty good actually. I wouldn't worry about it."

"I'll check it out later, I guess," Susan said, standing up.

"Woah. You really are tall! You're gigantic!" Rene cried. "Awesome!"

"Thanks," Susan said, with a slight smile. "You should go first. I don't want to step on you by mistake. Head up to the twenty-five foot main platform in the other room."

"See ya there." The two girls headed out to the main room. Susan realised she was still holding her old stuffed toy. She gently kissed its faded head and then laid it down carefully on the huge bed, where it was almost invisible.

"This is the most bizarre place ever," Mindy commented as she sat down on the sofa on the twenty-five foot high main platform.

"Not as weird as our common room back at the base," Susan said as she sat down on her own huge sofa. She rested her elbow on the platform, and looked down at her friends.

"How so?" Mindy said, looking a little startled to see Susan so close up.

"Doc helped design it," the giantess said with a grin. "He wanted a place that looked like a mad scientist's lair. It's pretty cool, actually."

"So what're the other monsters—I mean, your friends, like?" Rene asked. "I mean, you'll forgive me for saying this, but they…didn't really come off that well in the interviews we saw."

"Those were such bull," Susan said with annoyance. "It was like they were trying to trap us. I'll bring them down next time. Though I might point out you already had a chance to meet them, that first night I came home after San Fran. Hey, just what the hell happened that night, anyway? They wouldn't tell me any details."

"Ah, yeah, that night," Mindy said slowly. "We weren't really… well…."

"It was like… like when black folk move into white suburbs," Rene said. "Like when my father moved to the area my mother grew up in. I mean, he was a well-off, highly educated lawyer, and at first everyone was treating him like he was some crack dealer from the hood."

"Your monster friends did nothing wrong," Mindy assured a rather shocked-looking Susan. "We were the ones who couldn't accept them."

"What about my parents?" Susan asked. "Didn't they try and make them feel at home?"

Mindy and Rene looked at each other.

"I hate to say it, Susie, but your folks were some of the worst," Rene said. "Your father tried to hide everyone under a sun umbrella, and your mother started screaming when that ape, uh, Link, came out of the pool and started waving his arms around."

Susan sat back. Her own parents too? No wonder Cockroach had been so tight-lipped about that night. She sighed.

"You're right, Rene. It's all about prejudice and bigotry. People hate and fear monsters—people like us—much like they used to hate and fear people like your father. I guess it will take some time before they really accept us."

"Well, who knows—we have a black president now. Maybe one day we'll have a monster president," Rene joked.

"You ever thought of running?" Mindy asked with a grin.

"You know," Susan said, leaning over and very gently flicking her friend in the arm, "somehow I don't think I'd be a good fit. Literally."

"Yeah, it sucks that you can't come to the mall with us any more, or go to restaurants." Mindy said.

"To be honest, shopping has less appeal these days. 'Big & Tall' isn't quite measuring up… And I'm not that interested in food these days, either," Susan confessed. "A lot of things just feel like mush to me, since I'm so big. But you'll be glad to know chocolate and ice cream are as yummy as ever!"

"Talking of food, when's the pizza getting here?" Rene asked. "I'm hungry!"

"Dad ordered it for four," Susan said. "There's also some wine coming."

"How much wine?" Mindy asked, looking up at her giantess friend.

"Enough," Susan told her with a two-foot wide grin.

* * *

Susan stirred and mumbled as the morning sun came through the curtains, forcing her awake. Sun? She was momentarily confused. Then she remembered where she was, and smiled.

"Woah, what a night," she whispered to herself. The pizzas weren't that great, and not actually quite enough anyway, but she didn't let on, and she must have drunk gallons of wine. Yet she hadn't got the least bit drunk, not even tipsy. Another side effect of the Quantonium? Mindy in particular had got rather sloshed, going a bit crazy. Susan was glad they were out in the country now, as she recalled having been rather loud the previous night. Dancing and singing and with the stereo turned way up. Just like old times. Except there was always this distance, this separation between her and everyone else. She dancing on the floor, her two normal-sized friends dancing on the raised platforms. Sure, she could see them and talk to them and even touch them, to an extent, but it just wasn't the same.

"No, it's not the same," she told herself as she swung her feet out of bed and onto the floor. "But do you really want your old life back? No. You made your decision, it was the right decision, and you're a hero for making it. You got a medal from the freaking President of the USA, Susan. The best you could have hoped for in your old life was a gift certificate from the President of the PTA."

She headed to the small bathroom, and freshened up before getting dressed. She knew Mindy and Rene would both still be asleep, and probably a little hung over, so she tiptoed through the main room, and quietly opened the front door.

"There she is!"

"Ginormica! This way!"

"Over here!"

"Susan! Ginormica!"

"This way! Down here!"

Susan suddenly found herself almost blinded by flashbulbs, surrounded by a dozen or more photographers.

"What? How? What are you doing here? This is my parents' home!"

They ignored her, and kept on taking photos.

"Ginormica! Do you still deny you cheated on Derek?"

"What's the real secret to your sudden growth?"

"What's the government really up to in Area 52?"

"Were you responsible for luring the robot to San Francisco?"

"Why did that alien attack Modesto? Are you part alien?"

"What exactly is your relationship with the Missing Link?"

"Are you in a lesbian relation with your friend Mindy?"

"What? No!" Susan shouted. "Go away! Get out of here before I step on someone!"

"Ginormica! Is that a threat? Are you threatening to kill journalists?"

"No! I mean, just go! Please leave me alone!"

"Ginormica, the strange alien being who destroyed the Golden Gate Bridge, has just threatened to crush me underfoot!"

"I didn't! Go away! Please!"

Sobbing, Susan opened the door to her barn, and fled inside. She quickly pulled all the curtains tight across the windows, and swore when one ripped. Then she threw herself down on her bed, and tried to calm down. It was hard to stop the tears, however. Why couldn't she find peace anywhere?

* * *

The sixty-foot main entrance door to the Monster Force common room slid up. Cockroach looked up with joy from his desk to see Susan step through, but his expression changed to one of concern as he saw her downcast face.

"My dear, you're back early. Uh, how was your visit?" he asked nervously.

"I'm never going anywhere again," she sobbed, and sat down heavily on her sofa.

"What happened?" Cockroach asked quietly.

"The damned press," Susan said. "They were waiting for me when I arrived, and then there were even more of them this morning. I had to hide in my room, and come back early as they just wouldn't leave us alone."

"They're vultures," Cockroach assured her. "Even worse now than in my day."

"Every time I tried to step outside, they were there," Susan said. "Eventually the police had to cordon off the entire street so I could leave in peace. And still some got through. There was even a helicopter. My parents and friends were bombarded with nosy, nasty questions."

"That is just not on," Link growled. "If I'd been there, I'd have given them a taste of my fist…"

"And you know the worst part?" Susan asked them quietly.

"Not having us with you?" Bob asked.

Susan smiled weakly at that. "Almost. No, the worst part was when I was trying to get back to the airport, and some girls called up at me, 'Ginormica! Ginormica!'. By that stage I was in a pretty bad mood, so I turned around and shouted 'Why the hell can't you leave me alone?'. But it wasn't paparazzi. It was just a couple of little girls who just wanted my autograph. And I… shouted at them. Got angry at them. This great terrifying giant, someone they looked up to—" Bob laughed, and Cockroach glared at him "—went and yelled at them. They ran off crying, and I couldn't follow them." Susan drew her knees up and buried her face in her arms. "Now they must hate me…."

"No… I hope not. Maybe they're a bit confused…" Cockroach said. "I'm sorry."

Susan lifted her face, looking at him with red-rimmed eyes that were brimming over with tears. "I can't do this again. I can't. I'm staying here. For ever."

"You're not a prisoner any more," Cockroach reminded her.

"Yeah, I know, it's just that getting me anywhere is a major exercise. I gotta be flown in a huge military aircraft, I need a police presence, and I'm surrounded by the press and paparazzi and everyone is just trying to bring me down," she moaned. "Here, I'm with friends, there aren't any press, and I can relax. I… I just don't fit in normal people's lives any more. Sometimes it's so hard to live in a world of dollhouses…"

"Hey, look at this," Link called over. "You won't like it…"

The television was showing footage of Susan that morning, her face angry.

"Get out of here before I step on someone!" she was yelling.

"Threats of violence from a government-created monster," the announcer said. "Are we safe in our homes when creatures like this are allowed to roam at will? Her former fiancé has testified how she attacked him in his studio, where he sustained serious injuries."

"Serious injuries?! He did not!" Susan gasped. "Just a couple of cracked ribs!"

"What we here at Wolf News need to ask is, what assurances can the government give us that no more civilians will be harmed by these monsters? Are our children safe?"

The image cut again to shots of Susan looking angry and upset on the road to the airport, then to a little girl.

"She was so scary," the girl said, looking nervous. "We just asked her for an autograph, and she turned and was about to stomp on us."

Susan gasped. "No! Never!"

"We know, Susan," Cockroach assured her, and Link nodded.

"You, go on a rampage? It'd be more likely for Monger to wear a tutu."

The next shot was Susan at the Lincoln Memorial, angrily confronting the _Modesto Bee_ journalist. Then the studio announcer returned.

"These freaks of science are being sheltered by our government, which as Lincoln himself said is a government of the people, for the people, and by the people—people, not monsters or freaks. What happens if one of these monsters runs amuck? We have here file footage of some of their destructive capabilities! We're not even safe in our houses of worship!"

"Turn it off," Susan said dully as the image switched to her destroying the church. Link did so, then padded over to her.

"It's only Wolf News," Cockroach said quietly, knowing he wasn't helping but being unable to stay silent. "They'll say anything for ratings, for controversy."

"Yeah, you haven't done anything bad," Link told her. "The other channels are still on our side, at least. Did you see that report ABC did on you?"

"Yeah, but for how long?" Susan asked bitterly. "I'm going to be the target of these jerks every time I go out, so it's best I don't. If I was smaller I could travel incognito, but… I can't. And I can't cope with all the questions, the fear, the suspicion. How can they still think we're a threat?"

"It's all happening too quickly, Susan," Cockroach said. "For decades, the public has been told that monsters are just stories, that aliens aren't real. So when they suddenly get presented with both of them, it's only natural that some of them seek refuge in denial. It's all a government conspiracy, we're genetically engineered super-soldiers, or mass hallucinations caused by chemical seeding in the air. Anything to justify their narrow world-view."

"So are they going to keep hassling us? After all we did?"

"Remember, it's only a tiny minority, my dear. They're just…rather vocal."

"I thought I would be so much stronger as Ginormica. After I saved you guys, and we escaped from the alien ship, I thought there was nothing I couldn't handle. But I'm not handling this."

"It's easy when you're being attacked directly, and can retaliate directly," Cockroach told her. "It's easy when you know who the enemy is, and how you can defeat them. But when the enemy is more insidious, when there is nothing to attack but empty words…" He shrugged.

"It'll pass," Link told her again. "They'll find a new target. We'll go back to semi-obscurity, be a mild curiosity. After all, how many times are we going to need to defend the Earth against alien attack?"

"Probably not that often," Susan said with a wan smile. "You think we'll just go back to our old, quiet life, just us five monsters together in here? Could be worse, I guess…" she finished, not sure if she was quite ready for that. It would be safe and secure, at least. No more being treated as a freak… Yeah, a quiet life, in an environment designed for her, with people she trusted… That was good. Just… a little small and limited….

* * *

**NOTES AND STUFF**: Sorry this chapter is so long. There was no natural break in the middle, so it's over 6,000 words.

Susan's pay grade is what a Major in the US Army would currently earn - the O-4 refers to the rank. It's not bad money I guess, but a general like Monger would be pulling in more than twice that.

The route Susan takes, and her parents' new address, were researched on Google SV. Church St. actually seems to have some rather upscale, large homes along it, so there would probably be a bit of opposition to having a huge structure built there, but too bad. Unfortunately, there are also wires running overhead (well, not in Susan's case, which is the problem) at every intersection.

Susan's uncle being in the police doesn't mean anything other than emphasizing the "small town" nature of the place.

The "I [HEART] DC" teddy bear is quite real. I found it online in a list of DC souvenirs.

Susan is careful not to say there are no aliens at Area 51, let alone admit what Doc told her...

Any coincidence between any animal-named news agencies depicted here are entirely coincidental...

And, as usual, reviews and comments most welcome, and I will try and respond to each one. I'd also like to thank SomeRandomReader and Dr. C Fan and the other anonymous reviewers whom I cannot directly respond to for their comments.

[posted 21 Feb 2013]

[minor edits 19 July 2013]


	9. Be Not Overcome

**9. Be Not Overcome**

"Uh, Major… Susan, I need to talk to you," Monger called down one afternoon as she was watching a movie, a few days after her abortive visit to Modesto. He was hovering in his jetpack a little above her head, and carrying a computer tablet.

"What's up, General?" she asked, concerned. It wasn't like him to use her real name.

"Please come this way. I… I have some bad news."

Susan's heart leapt into her mouth. "Oh God no, what is it? It's not my parents is it? Please tell me they're safe!"

"They're fine," Monger said. "Come into the old common room. I need to tell you this in private."

"Uh, okay…" Susan said, feeling rather scared. What on earth could be the matter?

"Doc, out," Monger ordered Cockroach as they entered the gigantic chamber Susan had spent her first fear-filled week in.

"But I was just…"

"Doc, please," Susan said.

Cockroach glanced up at her face, seeing her anxious eyes, and immediately left. It was very clear that something extremely serious was going on.

"Ginor—Susan," Monger said. "I'm afraid I don't know any good way to put this. So I'm going to come right out and say it. There have been several…uh, photos of you released to the Internet this morning."

"What do you mean?" Susan asked nervously.

Monger went rather red. "Ah… I... here."

He handed her the tablet. Susan took it between her forefinger and thumb, and focused on the tiny image. Her eyes widened and the colour drained from her face. It was a photo of her, stark naked. In Derek's bedroom, lying on his bed with a bashful grin. Everything was visible. Aghast, she flicked to the next photo. Her again, smiling up at the camera, caressing her bare breasts. Another one of her posing naked seated on the dresser in her own room, her thighs slightly parted.

She couldn't bear to see if there were any more. The tablet fell from her numb fingers and shattered on the floor far below.

"I don't need to ask where these came from," Monger said quietly as Susan hid her face in her hands, shaking. "It's obvious these were never meant to be more than innocent snaps between lovers. It seems that your former fiancé has tried to get revenge on you. We're doing everything in our power to stop their circulation. But it's not going to be possible to completely block them. These photos are out there now. Little Debbie…. I'm so sorry."

Susan's face suddenly flushed crimson. "Derek…. You goddam little shit! I'll flatten you!"

She aimed a kick at the nearest door, smashing straight through the inch-thick steel plate. Another powerful kick sent Cockroach's experiments flying, and she bodily ripped her old chair out of the floor and smashed it repeatedly onto the table as Monger immediately shot his jetpack far above her. Then she hammered her fist into the wall as hard as she could, breaking through it. Pounding on the wall repeatedly, she tore off the sheet steel in a furious rage.

"Major! Ginormica! Please!" Monger called.

Susan turned a tear-streaked face towards him and then ran into her old cell, where she collapsed sobbing on the floor, curled into a ball.

* * *

"What in Darwin's name was that?" Cockroach gasped, hearing what sounded like a series of explosions.

"Did you leave an experiment running?" Link asked, looking up from his _Surfer_ magazine. "Now, look at this beach. You think we could…"

"Quiet, Link. Cockroach, we have a serious problem," Monger said, interrupting them. He landed on the living area platform, and quickly filled them in on what Derek had done.

"That little sack of rancid manure," Link breathed, his gills opening and closing and his dorsal crest red with blood. "I'm going to kill him. Rip his limbs off and force them down his throat."

"How is she?" Cockroach asked. "We heard an explosion."

"That was Susan destroying half the old common room. And your precious experiments, Doc."

"Sod my bloody experiments, Monger," Cockroach said. "She's the one I'm worried about. I'm going to see her."

"She doesn't want to see anyone."

"She may not want to, but she needs to," Cockroach retorted. "I'm going."

"She's furious," Monger warned him. "You were right about not wanting to make her mad. Damnation! She just kicked straight through a blast door designed to contain a rocket explosion like it were tinfoil. Talk about not knowin' yer own strength…. Just be careful she doesn't hurt you by mistake."

Cockroach nodded, and headed off.

The old common room looked like a bomb had gone off. Three days' worth of careful experiment setup was now lying in fragments around the room. There were large holes in the metal walls, some of which were steaming where Susan had smashed utility pipes.

Cockroach hurried to her old cell, and opened the smaller normal-sized door. Susan was in there, in the dark, hunched over in the corner. Terrified of how she might be reacting, he called her name softly. There was no response. He tried again.

"Can't you leave me alone for five seconds?" she shouted.

"Susan, it's me. What's the problem?"

"The problem is that nobody will leave me alone!" she shouted again. "Go away. Please," she added in a softer voice.

"I can't," he said. "I can't leave you in pain. Monger told us what happened. We're worried."

"Did he show you the pictures as well? Get a good look I suppose?"

"No, no pictures. We haven't seen anything. Susan, please, don't let Derek defeat you like this. He wants you humiliated. He wants you sobbing in a corner, miserable."

"What will my parents think?" Susan whispered. "What if my father sees them?"

"I'll tell Monger to fly your parents up here immediately. They can stay with you here, where they won't come across the photos by mistake, until this blows over. Susan, please, don't let yourself sink into despair. You're stronger now. You can deal with this. Please don't surrender to depression."

Susan turned over and faced him. In the dim light Cockroach could see her eyes were reddened, but she was no longer crying.

"That's just it," she said. "I'm not depressed—well, I mean I am upset of course. I'm humiliated. But I'm also furious. Furious with him. Furious with myself for trusting him, furious with him… I just want to smash him to a pulp."

"You're not that sort of person, Susan," Cockroach assured her.

"No, I'm not," she agreed. "And that's what scares me. You're right, the old Susan would have broken down in tears and wept for days. I still sort of want to. But now—I just snapped. I got angry, and violent. What has happened to me?"

"You must have had temper tantrums before, surely?" Cockroach suggested.

"Yeah, but they did a little less damage," Susan admitted. "What I'm saying is, I don't want to turn into a real monster."

"You never could. Inside, you're still the sweet, vulnerable person I love—we love."

Susan smiled wryly at that. "I love you all too," she said. "I could never harm you. Derek, however…" She laughed to show Cockroach she wasn't serious. Inside, however, she was slightly disturbed to find there was something appealing about the idea of him spread to a thin paste underneath her foot.

"God no, Susan, stop thinking that," she told herself, standing up abruptly. "Come on Doc, let's go see what the damage is. I'm afraid I might have upset some of your experiments…"

"Never mind," Cockroach said. "I can tell they wouldn't have worked anyway. Since nothing blew up when you destroyed them…"

Susan laughed. "You can always make me feel better," she said. "How do you do it?"

"I just know you so well, that's all…."

* * *

"Your parents? Here?" Monger hesitated for a brief moment. "Uh, I'll see what I can do. But there will be, er, restrictions. This ain't a holiday camp. This is a top-secret military base, and your parents have not got any form of clearance."

"Come on, General," Susan pleaded.

"I am 'coming on,' Major," Monger retorted. "If it were anyone else, or any other reason, we wouldn't even be discussing the matter. Let's see… They can stay in base housing, and you can visit them there, but the underground areas must remain strictly off limits. At least until we've had a chance to run some proper background checks. Your father's not a member of the Communist Party, is he?"

Susan blinked. "Does that even still exist?"

"You'd be surprised," Monger said, glancing around. "Never know when there might be a Red under the bed."

"I'm pretty sure he's not," Susan said. "I think he might be a Democrat, however."

"Humph. Well, it's better than being a Commie, at least," Monger allowed. "I'll try and get them here as soon as possible. In the meantime, I'll arrange to have their Internet access cut off and their computers remotely scanned to ensure that they don't have copies of the images."

"You can do that?" Susan asked, a little shocked.

"Major, if I needed to, I could have them transformed, legally speaking, into Fijians."

"Uh, probably won't need to go quite that far…" Susan said. "Thank you, General. And I'm sorry for doubting you. You've been good to me—better than I realised."

"You thought I was the worst monster of all when you arrived, I'll bet," the old soldier commented dryly.

"I guess I did," Susan confessed. "Sorry."

"You had good reason to," he admitted. "I'm just glad you adjusted so well. You owe Cockroach a lot. He was the one who was constantly pushing to improve your living conditions."

"I owe him everything," Susan agreed readily. "I only wish I could show him how much he means to me…" she added to herself.

* * *

Monger was as good as his word. That night he visited Susan as she was playing cards with Link and Insecto after dinner.

"Come up topside. You have some visitors."

"My parents?" Susan asked excitedly, jumping up.

Monger nodded. "They arrived on a windowless transport plane just now, and will be let off the plane as soon as the truck arrives. I've temporarily confiscated their cellphones, and all incoming and outgoing calls and communications will be screened. You will need to impress upon them the rules. This is a top-secret military base, not a holiday camp, and they are not here to sightsee. It is vital that they understand this. Vital."

"Yes, General," Susan said. "I'll keep them in line."

"I'm sure you will, Major," Monger said. "Follow me."

He led the way out of the underground base, accompanying Susan on the missile lifting platform. The hatch to the surface opened as they neared, revealing the Milky Way. Susan gasped at the sight.

"Wow, I've never been out here at night before! Look at all the stars!"

"Look at your feet, please, Major," Monger said sternly. "Remain behind my jeep at all times."

"Yes, General," Susan acknowledged, stepping carefully. The area was floodlit, with overlapping shadows, making it a little hard to see details and she didn't want to cause any harm. Luckily it was not far to the VIP housing area. Her parents were waiting outside a small single-level house.

"Susie Q!"

"Darling!"

Mom! Daddy!"

Susan dropped to her knees to hand-hug her parents.

"We're so sorry about what happened when you came! We had no idea that it would happen!" her mother told her.

"No, no, don't you apologise," Susan said. "I should never have gone."

"We couldn't have that," her mother countered. "Better you and a horde of journos than no you."

"I'd prefer you and no journos, myself," her father noted pragmatically.

"Is that why you brought us out here?" her mother asked. "It was quite a shock, actually, when the army turned up."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Susan said. "I should have called you. I didn't realise you'd be here so soon. The General was really quick."

"Oh, sorry," her mother said, looking at Monger, who was waiting moderately patiently. "General, thanks so much for putting us up here."

"Wherever here is," her father added, looking around.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you," Susan said, blushing. "Actually, come to think of it, I don't really know myself. I mean, I know the name of the base, but I couldn't find it on a map or anything."

"As it should be," Monger said. "Now, Mr and Mrs Murphy, I would like to formally welcome you to the MCF site, and request that you take the minor restrictions on your movements very seriously. As I told your daughter, this is not a holiday camp. Your time here will be limited to the minimum required, and you may not access any of the monster containment areas or other off-limits areas of the base without explicit permission and the accompaniment of an officer. You may not enter fenced areas marked Keep Out. All surface structures with an L-1 clearance sign on the door may be entered. Anything marked L-2 or higher is off limits. There are serious penalties for violating these restrictions, which can include jail time."

"Sorry it's so strict, Daddy, Mom," Susan said as her parents looked shocked. "This is a military base, after all."

"If it were a normal military base, you would actually have more freedom," Monger told them. "This site is so secure that the mere mention of its real name is a federal offence. You may refer to it simply as 'Area 52'."

"Don't worry about all that," Susan said happily. "Well, I mean, do worry about it, but don't _worry_ about it. This means I can come and see you every day!"

"Come round the back, darling," her mother called. "I think I saw some deck chairs, and you can sit on the lawn. The sky's so clear out here, and we haven't had a chance to really talk properly face to face since your wedding…I mean, since…well…"

"Call it Q Day, if you like," Susan suggested. "The Army does. The day I got hit by the Quantonium. General, permission to remain topside for a few hours?"

"Curfew is at 22:00, remember," Monger said. "I'll be back to escort you at 21:50."

"Thank you, sir!" Susan said, snapping him a happy salute.

Monger returned the salute and drove off.

"Come on, darling, round the back. Carl dear, the nice army man who took us here said there was juice in the fridge, as well as a special cup for Susan. Can you organize those?"

"Sure thing honey!" her father said, and bustled off.

Susan led her mother around to the back yard, and knelt down on the dry grass.

"Susan, darling," her mother said, standing close to her daughter and speaking quietly. "I think I know why we're really here."

Susan's heart leapt into her mouth. "Uh, you do? I mean, you're here to make it easier to visit until the media loses interest, right?"

Her mother shook her head, and looked very embarrassed. "It's… about those, uh, those… those, er, um… photos, isn't it?"

"Oh my God! You saw those?!" Susan gasped in horror. "Mom, I'm so, so sorry! I would never have… I mean, I… Oh no…" She threw herself on the ground and hid her face in her hands.

"Oh, my dear sweet child, don't cry," her mother said, stroking Susan's silver hair. "First, your father doesn't know. He hasn't seen them, and I intend to keep it that way. Even if we have to live here for a year. Second, I'm not angry at you. I'm not even disappointed in you. You and Derek had been going steady for years—I knew you weren't a virgin or anything. Well, I mean I was pretty sure you weren't. And we all thought you would be together for ever. You had every right to take a few photos together to commemorate your love for each other. As God is my witness, the next time I see that fancy-haired little shit—sorry Susan—I will punch him straight in his expensively bleached teeth!" she finished in a sudden fury.

Her mother took a deep breath, and wiped her eyes. "Susan, my love, it's going to be all right. You'll get through this."

Susan said nothing. But her right hand stretched out, and she gripped the trunk of one of the trees in the garden. To her mother's shock and awe, she slowly uprooted the entire tree, tearing it out by the roots with a tremendous noise. Then she slammed it into the earth again, gouging out a large hole.

"Good Heavens, girl! What on earth are you doing?" her father asked, his eyes staring at the sight which greeted him on coming outdoors with the drinks.

"Nothing you need to worry about, Carl," her mother told him firmly. "Did you find Susan's cup?"

"This one," he said, his eyes still nervously on his giant daughter. "Is there anything I should know about?"

"No, no, nothing," his wife assured him. "Now put those down and go and make yourself useful by, uh, finding the ice maker. It's warm out here."

"Yes, dear," Susan's father said, heading back inside with a final puzzled glance at his child. Carl Murphy was no idiot: it was obvious to him that Susan was extremely upset, and he very much suspected it had something to do with why he and his wife had suddenly been flown to this secret base. But it was also obvious that it was something the girls didn't want him to know about at the moment. So he decided to take his time finding the ice maker.

"Oh, what am I going to do?" Susan cried in exasperation, sitting up and flinging the tree into the empty desert. "How could he do this to me, after all we've been through? I was in love with him. Why is he being so damned petty? Was I wrong to do what I did when we got back from Gallaxhar's ship?"

"No, dear, you weren't," her mother said. "Because if you hadn't, your father would have—he was livid when he saw how Derek was behaving that evening. I had to admit, as a mother, I loved seeing you two together over the years, but I had no idea how much of a… a…"

"Dickwad?" Susan suggested.

"A total dickwad he could be, indeed!"

"I just never expected he could be this low," Susan said. "God, I am so better off without him! But why the hell did he…. The next time I see him, I won't get Bob to catch him, that's for sure. Nope. He's gonna go splat!" She smacked one hand onto the other to illustrate. Her mother jumped a bit at the sudden movement.

"Yes, well, I'm sure he'll have to answer for his sins one day," she said soothingly.

"How can I show my face in Modesto again?" Susan asked, her eyes brimming over as she slumped down again.

"Modesto is fine, dear. Everyone loves you there. You're our hero. You'll always receive a hero's welcome whenever you come home."

"I didn't last time," Susan pointed out.

"Ah, well, most of those weren't local press anyway," her mother said rather lamely.

"Oh, forget it," Susan said, a tinge of anger in her voice. She lay on her back, with one leg resting on the other knee and her hands behind her head. "Those photos are out there, and anyone who wants to can see them. Derek's won. He's had his revenge, and he's won. I just have to live with that. Ha! Maybe I should go and take that offer from Playboy to pose for them!"

"You wouldn't!" her mother gasped.

"Of course not, silly," Susan told her. "Monger would have my head, for a start. I just wish there was some way I could get revenge on that little sack of…"

"Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord. Do you know what that means, Susan?"

"God is angry?"

"No, it means that God will avenge your wrongs for you: you shouldn't try and do it. You need to overcome evil with good rather than letting evil overcome your goodness. And you have so much goodness inside you, sweetie," her mother said gently. "You can do so much good for the world—you already have, of course. You are so much greater than he is, and he can't cope with that. Don't let Derek bring you down—don't let him make you small."

Susan laughed. "Time was, I'd have done anything to get small. Not now. I am Ginormica. I am strong. I… _am_… strong…" she finished, sounding as if she were trying to persuade herself it was the truth.

"I don't care how big you are, so long as you are happy. It pains me to see you hurt like this."

"No, I'm fine," Susan said dully. "No, really. Things are much better for me now, especially without…_him_. Well, it does mean you'll never have grandkids. Sorry, Mom," Susan said quietly.

"What do… Oh. Never mind about that. Oh, but what about you, my dear? You won't ever be able to… you know… again…"

"I do know," Susan said, a tear escaping as she stared into the brilliant band of the Milky Way, far above her. "Sometimes I think I might have been too hasty in making my choice. Though I wasn't really consciously thinking of that at the time. All I cared about was my friends, trapped in a disintegrating ship. There was no choice to be made. Just like the first time, at the church. The moment I saw that globe of Quantonium, I knew there was no escaping my destiny. So it's pointless to keep thinking about it."

"Do you know how immensely proud I am of you, my dear?" her mother said, tears flowing. "I know we haven't always seen eye to eye on everything, but I've always loved you. And now my only regret is that I'm not fifty feet tall as well so I could hug you, hold you, comfort you like I used to. But no matter how big and strong you get, you'll always be my little baby girl, and don't you ever forget that."

Susan reached out an arm, and gently held her mother as she turned her own tear-filled eyes towards her. "I won't. Not again. I promise. You know, the single hardest part about being… a giant is the loneliness. I'm always isolated, even when I'm with people. I don't just mean I can't hug you properly. To me, you all look like dolls, so small and fragile. You're all down there, warm and happy together, and I'm looking in from the outside, cold, alone above you all. It's so hard to be alone…"

Her mother snuggled into her daughter's huge hand, letting herself be held securely.

"You're never alone," she whispered. "Not in your heart. Not while there are people who love you."

Susan smiled sadly, and lifted her mother up, settling her on her chest.

"Come, lie back and let's look at the stars. They're so clear out here."

"Everything is more clear out here," her mother told her. "Everything."

Like silver dust, the stars spread across the black velvet void of the endless heavens, making Susan feel very small indeed as the infinite size of the universe expanded out before her. It was a very pleasant, calming, and humbling feeling. She was intensely aware of the slightest zephyrs of the warm desert breeze against her skin, the distant sounds of the base, the beating of her own heart, and the gentle pressure of her mother against her chest, rising and falling slowly as she breathed. The universe condensed down into a singularity that consisted of her and her mother, and every problem and worry and fear she had was shut outside it. Susan was at peace.

.

* * *

**MORE NOTES**: For the nude photos of Susan, I was inspired, if that's the right word, by all those stolen cellphone pics of celebrities that seem to get released, as well as the recent issue with the Duchess of Cambridge's nude pics (and to give Derek an even more spiteful way to attack her). I also wanted to give Susan some nice bonding time with her mother after she danced with her father in DC. Incidentally, if I didn't note this earlier, with the name "Murphy" I have decided they're Irish Catholics originally. Not that this will play into things much. They're obviously not too strict, however. The Bible quote her mother uses ("Be not overcome") is from Romans 2:21, and from the KJV as I like the language, even though many Catholics might have an issue with the KJV.

I originally wrote "contain a nuclear explosion" for the door Susan kicks in, but was quite unable to find data on the compressive force of a thermonuclear warhead at point-blank range and how much force someone able to deadlift over 500 tons could apply with a kick. So I toned it down slightly... Tank armour can reach up to four or even six inches thick, which I would think would be too much for even Susan (oddly enough, the Pentagon is strangely reluctant to let us know just how much force it would take to penetrate modern tank armour. Can't _imagine_ why...). However bunker doors designed to withstand nuclear attacks, albeit not at ground zero, are mainly concrete sheethed in steel. Which she would have no problem with.

"Surfer" is a real magazine, incidentally.

Other than that, I don't have a lot of research-based comments to add. However, that doesn't mean it's not an important chapter - I could add a load of thematic comments, but that would be spoilers...

While I love spending time in Susan's world, the real world tends to intrude at times, so posting is going to be a little less frequent than every other day or every couple of days. Though I have completed Ch. 12 more or less, and much of Ch. 13 and 14, they're still a little rough.

[posted 25-Feb-13]


	10. The World Needs You Again

**10. The World Needs You Again**

"Susan, look at this!" Link called two evenings later.

"God, Link, what do you want me to watch Wolf News for? I hate those guys!"

"They're talking about your photos—you know, the, uh, the private ones."

"Oh Christ, no, surely not!" Susan gasped. She watched in horror, terrified of what would happen.

"One, er, giant issue that's been going around," the panellist was saying, "is these photos of Ginormica, the Hero of San Francisco, naked. There's no doubt that they're real, is there Margaret?"

"None, I'm afraid," the other panellist said. "They were apparently taken by her ex-lover, Derek Dietl, and released in revenge for the way she dumped him—or rather, the way she rejected him after he dumped her. Let's roll that footage again."

"I never get tired of that. You'll be glad to know that Dietl was recently fired from his job at Fresno News for bringing disrepute on the station."

Susan gasped, and Link cheered. "Boo-yah! Take that!" he shouted.

"For releasing those photos, we would really hope so. I believe he's been blacklisted from all reputable news stations. This is even lower than when the Duchess of Cambridge's nude photos were released. No remotely reputable magazine in the world carried those, and we here at Wolf News are glad to say that none of the Wolf Network's media will touch these with a ten-foot…I mean a fifty-foot pole."

"Indeed. We have with us here today via a live hookup a young lady who has had a personal encounter with Ginormica, and wishes to set the record straight. Miss Amy Marshall lives on the army base at Area 52, and first encountered Ginormica about three weeks ago. Amy, thanks so much for being on the show with us."

"Thank you, uh, Mr O'Rourke. My father loves your show."

"Why, thank you. Tell him I and everyone here at Wolf News thank him for his service to our great nation."

"Gee, thanks. I will."

"Miss Amy, what did you first think of Ginormica?"

"I was really scared. This huge giant reached down and grabbed me, picked me up, and carried me away."

"Abduction of our children. Exactly what we here have been warning will happen," O'Rourke noted. "But there's more to the story, isn't there? Tell us the truth about the giantess Ginormica, please Amy. What happened next?"

"Well, my father and some of the other men, they shot her," Amy said, her lip trembling. Watching, Susan felt her eyes prickle with tears. "She let me go, and they shot her again."

"Why did they shoot her, Amy?" O'Rourke asked gently.

"They thought I was her, uh, hostage. But I wasn't!" Amy said loudly. "I'd fallen over and scraped my knee badly. She was just trying to get me help! And they shot her! She was sitting on the ground, crying, because they were shooting at her. I saw her! She was so scared! She's just a normal person, only a bit bigger. We shouldn't be afraid of her… She's more afraid of us, really." Amy wiped her eyes.

"Is this a monster to fear?" O'Rourke asked the camera. "A sobbing young woman, who had only been trying to help this young child. Attacked, simply because of her size. Amy, did you see her again?"

Amy nodded. "After the aliens came, and she saved us all, I asked Daddy if I could meet her and say sorry. Daddy got me special permission, and we had lunch together. She's so cool! I want to be just like her when I grow up! Well, maybe not quite that tall, but she's great! She's so brave, and strong, but she's not tough or hard or anything. She's sweet and kind, and I don't want anyone else to ever be afraid of her again!"

"Thank you so much for this heart-warming story, Amy," O'Rourke said. "We've been talking with Amy Marshall, a personal friend of the giantess Ginormica. She has asked us—she has asked the entire nation—to learn to see these monsters not as dangerous, unpredictable killers, but as warm, caring, people."

"We here at Wolf News have been pretty critical of the government's monster program in the past," the other announcer said, "as we believe that these creatures present a danger to society that the army is not prepared to fully acknowledge. These are monsters that have killed and terrorised hundreds, if not thousands, in the past. But Ginormica, Susan, has not. And we apologise if we ever implied she had. She is a true hero, who put her life on the line to save the planet from invasion and was recently awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom. Wolf News joins every other major network in America, and indeed the civilised world, in condemning these photos and Derek Dietl as a shameless insult to an international hero."

The show cut to commercials, and Link turned it off. He looked back up at Susan, and was surprised and worried to see her crying.

"Hey, it's okay—you heard them. They won't be releasing them—no one will see them, except for some internet low-lifes who couldn't get a date if they sat under a palm tree in a hurricane."

"It's not that," Susan sniffed. "I'm not sad. I'm happy. I'm so proud of Amy for what she said. She was so brave to go on TV and say that. I need to call her, invite her over soon. Maybe her whole family. We can all have dinner together."

"Great idea," Link noted. "And I think it's also amazing they aren't going to spread those pics. Even on the net, the major sites won't show 'em. And you know why? People love you, that's why. The whole freaking world loves you. So stop getting all mushy on me, okay? Let's hit the lake or something. Get some exercise, outdoors."

Susan wiped her eyes and smiled at him. "Deal. But only if I can play with Insecto first."

* * *

"Monsters!" Monger came flying into the common room on his jetpack as they were having dinner two days later. "Fun's about to start! The world needs you again!"

"What is it, General?" Susan asked.

"Seems an alien robot has appeared near Rome. Don't know why an alien would choose to land in Eye-taly, and not the good ol' US of A, but there you have it."

"Well, I've always wanted to go to Rome," Susan smiled. "Now who's with me?"

"We all are, of course," Cockroach smiled.

"Damn straight," Link growled. "I gotta get the chance to save you one of these days."

"You already did, Link," Susan said sweetly. "When you put me on the disintegrating hoverbike, remember. You were prepared to sacrifice yourself so I could survive."

"Oh, yeah, well, don't let's get too sappy," Link said, not looking Susan in the eye.

"What do we know about this robot?" Cockroach asked enthusiastically.

In answer, Monger pressed a button on his jetpack's remote unit. A section of one of the platforms by Cockroach's lab slid open, and a large control panel slowly rose up. At the same time, a panel in front rotated open, revealing an enormous keyboard and joystick sized for a fifty-foot woman.

Cockroach cackled maniacally. "You built it! I always wanted one of these! I thought you took it off my plans for the remodelling, however."

"Nah, I just told you I did," Monger said as he landed. "Wouldn't want you doing anything silly with it. First rule of government construction: never take anything off a plan, or else you'll have to fight for budget allocation later on when you really need it. That's why this base is so big. Now, take a look at this."

"Explain, General," Link said. By now they had all gathered at the control panel, which was full of monitors and dials and levers, with a giant video screen rising above everything. Monger pressed a button to play back a video.

"Oh my god," Susan said, as she saw the giant machine on screen.

"By Darwin's beard…" Cochroche breathed.

"Flippin' 'eck," Link gasped.

"Now that's a robot!" Bob exclaimed.

"Measurements show it to be over a thousand feet long and four hundred feet tall," Monger explained. "It weighs more than the Titanic."

"What's it doing?" Cockroach asked.

"It's methodically removing the topsoil," Monger said. "But we have no idea why."

"Mining?" Cockroach asked.

"We thought of that," Monger said. "But as far as we can tell, it's not extracting anything from the soil. We've analyzed its tailings, and they seem normal. Nothing missing. It's just…digging."

"Maybe it dropped its car keys," Bob suggested.

"Looking for something, you mean?" Cockroach mused. "Methodically sifting the soil… But for what?"

"There's nothing special about that area, as far as we can tell," Monger said. "But the machine is steadily moving closer and closer to Rome, and you can see here how little effect the Italian army's best weapons have had. It appears to be clad in the same sort of force field as the Friscobot."

"The what-bot?" Susan asked.

"The Friscobot—that's its current appellation."

"Nobody in San Francisco is going to like that…" Susan muttered.

"They're a buncha hippie liberals," Monger said dismissively. "Anyway, we ship out in half an hour. MF-1 is being prepped and fuelled. Sorry Link, this is another one Insectosaurus will have to sit out. She couldn't make it across the Atlantic, and it would take too long to ship her."

"Well I hope the next attack comes right here," Link snarled. "Maybe then you could see what she can really do."

"We know what she can do," Susan said. "You know we wish she could come. But it's hard enough getting me anywhere. And I'm only fifty feet." Susan smiled slightly at that 'only'—Insecto was just about the only creature short of a whale she could say that about.

"Come on, Link, you'll like Italy," Cockroach said. "They have lots of seafood."

"General, will we have time to check out Rome?" Susan asked.

"I should imagine President Napolitano of Italy would want to meet you, yes," Monger said.

"Amazing! I've always wanted a Roman Holiday, just like Audrey Hepburn! That's why I wanted to go to Rome for my honeymoon," Susan explained. "Oh, that movie is so romantic! Derek suggested Paris, but I told no, it had to be Rome for our honeymoon! La Dolce Vista!"

"Vita," Cockroach corrected her quietly; unable, as Susan knew, not to.

"This is not a honeymoon, Major," Monger noted sternly. "We have a job to do."

"So this trip won't be quite as romantic, right?" Bob noted.

"Probably not," Susan agreed with a slight smile. She glanced quickly at Cockroach, who was busy fiddling with the controls of the monitoring station, and hadn't noticed the direction of her gaze. "But still... I'll be there with people I love…."

* * *

The monsters assembled in the underground hanger, and saluted as Monger drove up.

"Ginormica, are you sure you want to wear that outfit?" he asked.

Susan looked down at her alien costume. "Doc thinks that this suit may help control or enhance the effects of the Quantonium. He's not sure how, but there was a reason Gallaxhar put me in it, and it presumably wasn't just to spare him the sight of my, uh, grotesque body."

"These lines and dots aren't just coloured patterns," Cockroach explained. "They're some form of energy conduits, presumably to concentrate the Quantonium for, among other things, extraction."

"It won't end up extracting it from her, will it?" Monger asked.

Cockroach shook his head. "No, the suit alone won't—Susan was wearing it the whole time on the ship, even when she got the Quantonium back and saved us. She told me that it affected her faster the second time, and I have hypothesised the suit may have played a role. We haven't carried out tests, however."

"Also it looks pretty snazzy," Susan admitted. "Come on, it's better than a dark grey jumpsuit made of patches, even if it does have orange highlights."

"Hmm. It's also pretty tight," Monger said. "Doesn't leave a whole lot to the imagination."

Susan laughed. "I think you need to get out more, General. You're way too conservative!"

"Humph. On board, men—and woman. Ginormica, you'll be glad to know we have installed toilet facilities for you on MF-1. They've very cramped, but it's better than nothing."

"Definitely," Susan agreed. "The trip to DC was pushing it." She crawled into the giant hold, and saw what he meant. A section of the front had been screened off. Since the hold was only twenty feet high, and curved inwards, she would have do anything hunched over.

"Yet another problem being fifty feet tall," she muttered. "No, Doc, don't look at me like that. I still think I made the right choice. I made the only choice. If I could stop feeling sorry for myself sometimes I'd cope a lot better. I guess I got over the photos Derek leaked all right, thanks to my mother, and you. And Amy."

"And the fact that not a single magazine would print them," Cockroach noted.

"That was…amazing," Susan admitted. "That actually was the first time I really felt like the world saw me as a hero. They didn't want to shame me. And now the entire world sees Derek as a sleazy no-good opportunist jerk. He even got death threats." She sighed. "I guess my mother was right."

"About what?" Cockroach asked.

"Not wanting to take revenge. About leaving that all up to God or karma. Derek ended up getting more shamed and suffering than I did."

"You didn't get shamed at all, my dear," Cockroach assured her. "Everyone saw you as the victim here. There was a huge outpouring of sympathy."

"Yeah, there was," Susan agreed. "I just hope it means it's easier to go out in future. But it's not just that really. It's all the hassle of getting me anywhere. Huge planes, police escorts, all that—it's just easier not to. But it means I feel a bit cooped up at times."

"You shouldn't worry so much about going out," Cockroach told her. "When the President goes out, he needs huge planes and police escorts as well. And he hasn't saved the world, either."

"I just feel a bit embarrassed about it all," Susan admitted. "I don't like making work for others, or inconveniencing them."

"Well, give it a bit of time," Cockroach told her. "Things will even out. You'll get less embarrassed, and the masses will get more used to you."

"And the next time you go visit your parents at home, we'll go too," Link added. "Give the press some other targets."

"I couldn't ask you to do that," Susan said as the plane rose to ground level.

"I know. That's why we're telling you we will," Link said. "You mess with one of us, you mess with the lot of us."

"Testify!" Bob shouted over the engines roaring into full throttle. "Ohhh, I love this bit!"

As the plane accelerated down the runway, Bob slowly elongated, then suddenly snapped back as it took off, bouncing around the interior.

"Hey, watch my drink!" Link snarled, snatching up his beer.

Susan laughed, and took a sip of her orange juice. "So, we've got a long trip ahead of us. What's the in-flight movie?"

"Ooh, I hope it's _The Blob_!" Bob said happily. "I love that movie!"

"Military transports don't have in-flight movies," Link said. "Interferes with drinking time."

"Or sleeping time," Cockroach said. "It's an overnight flight, so I suggest we all try and get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a big day."

"I don't know if I can sleep," Susan admitted. "I'm all scared and excited and confused inside. What if one of us gets hurt?"

"As long as we all work together, there's nothing we can't take on," Cockroach told her. "My brains, your strength, Bob's elasticity, Link's, uh, strength…"

"What about my strength?" Link asked. "You got a problem with my strength? I'll take you on any day!"

"No, no, no problems. You're the second-strongest of us, easily," Cockroach assured him.

Link sat back heavily, and chugged his beer. "Yeah. Second strongest…" he muttered under his breath. "Out-monstered by a girl…"

Susan caught his words, and chewed on her lower lip a bit.

"Pay no attention, my dear," Cockroach told her quietly. "He's had a bit much to drink, that's all."

"I should have brought my tablet," Susan said, diplomatically changing the subject. "Completely forgot. Now I don't have a thing to do all flight. How long's the flight?"

"Twelve hours," Cockroach told her.

"Twelve hours?" Susan gasped.

"Haven't you ever flown internationally before?"

Susan shook her head. "I've never left the States. Furthest I've ever been from home was last week in Washington."

"Ah. Well, twelve hours is pretty typical really. Shorter than some, in fact. And we get to lie down, fully flat—this is much more comfortable than economy class."

"Service ain't as good though," Link groused. "No pretty stewardesses. Lousy meals."

"Will they feed us?" Susan asked.

"Breakfast, maybe," Cockroach said. "We've already had dinner. Would you like to try and get some sleep? We can move to the inner cabin if you like."

"No, not just yet," Susan said. "What do you think this robot's doing?"

"Well, I can think of two things," Cockroach said. "It's either mining for a substance we can't detect, perhaps something that exists in only trace amounts, which would account for the huge area it is excavating, or, as Bob suggested, it's looking for its car keys."

"In other words, something alien that shouldn't be on Earth."

Cockroach nodded. "It's ruining millions of euros worth of farmland, not to mention several roads and a couple of small villages. According to the data, it's dug from near Castel Gandolfo, where it first appeared, to near Pomezia, and has now turned towards central Rome. At its current speed it will start to destroy the suburbs in less than twenty-four hours. Which gives us twelve hours to stop it once we arrive."

"Any idea how?"

"I've been looking at the high-resolution images from the satellites and from the Italian army. A full-frontal assault won't work. The only opening appears to be the soil hatch by the bucket-wheel head. Not my ideal ingress point, as the buckets will be very dangerous. In addition, as Monger noted, the robot is protected by a similar force field to the robot we took down in San Francisco."

"Could it be another probe sent by Gallaxhar?" Susan asked.

"I wouldn't imagine so," Cockroach said, shaking his head. "For one thing, we know what Gallaxhar was after."

"Me—or my Quantonium," Susan noted.

"Exactly. So there is no reason to attack a completely unrelated part of the planet. I very much doubt it is anything to do with him," Cockroach told her in a confident tone.

"But you still have no idea how to defeat it," Link interjected.

"Not enough data," Cockroach informed him. "To theorize without data is like making bricks without clay. You can't build anything with it."

"I don't suppose I can do much," Susan said. "It's a lot bigger than the other robot, and I can't just pull it off balance."

"No," Cockroach agreed. "It has an estimated weight of over fifty thousand tons, so it's out of even your league. This is one where finesse and intelligence are called for… We need to use our heads."

"I prefer knocking heads," Links grumbled.

"At least it's not trying to kill me," Susan said. "Or anyone else, so far, right?"

"Correct. It has shown no offensive weaponry as yet, no," Cockroach told her.

"Except for eating even more than I do," Bob noted.

"Indeed. That huge bucket wheel is a simple but effective weapon of mass destruction. Susan, do you think something jammed in there could stop it?"

"You mean, could I jam something in there?" she asked. "That wheel's at least twice my height, and rotating rapidly. But the real question is, what could I jam in there, even assuming I could jam something in?"

"Indeed—we don't have anything both strong enough and big enough to work."

"Could we push it into a river?" Bob asked. "Does it swim?"

"We don't know. It's also too big to divert easily. Let me think about this," Cockroach said. "You get some sleep—we'll be heading straight to the robot the minute we land."

"Yeah, I could use some shut-eye too," Link said. "Catch you all later."

"Night," Susan said, as she was left alone in the darkened cargo hold. But she was too nervous to drop off immediately. _Focus, Susan_, she told herself. _Remember what you learned, remember your training, remember what you have come through, remember that you'll be with your friends. You can do anything when you're with your friends. And you're even halfway decent on your own. No short-changing, remember?_

* * *

**_NOTES:_**O'Rourke's name, at least, is taken from PJ O'Rourke, a conservative (in the older definition, rather than a Tea Party type) and very funny essayist.

It would take around twelve hours to fly from Vegas to Rome, so that's accurate. All placenames used are real places as well.

Cockroach's bit about bricks and clay and data is another bit from Sherlock Holmes.

The idea of a mining/resource extracting robot is based partially on some of the early ideas for the movie (though those were more about oil) and partially on the Bagger 288, especially after seeing the completely silly and insane "Bagger 288 Song" (check it out on YouTube - it's well worth it...).


	11. Flight of Angels

**11. Flight of Angels**

"Oh. My. God…" Susan gasped. "That is insane!"

They were all on the crest of a low hill, looking down on the titanic machine that was slowly churning its way through the topsoil, leaving a massive wake of bare earth in its path.

"We don't have much time," Monger said. "It's already ripped through several outlying villages. And at present speed, in half an hour that thing will rip through Santa Lucia Hospital. They're evacuating it, but some patients cannot be moved. Whatever happens, that thing must be stopped before it hits the hospital."

"Yeah, but seriously, how do we stop this thing?" Link asked. "You really think your idea will work, Doc?"

"Theoretically, it should." Cockroach cradled the large device he was carrying, which he had quickly assembled from spare parts provided by the Italian army and a few interesting items he had found in his pockets. "No, of course it will. Definitely. I hope…"

"Care to explain your idea, Cockroach?" Monger said, sitting in his jeep. "General Lazio of the Granatieri di Sardegna Mechanized Brigade was most reluctant to let you have some of those, uh, parts you are holding. So you better know what you're doing."

"I was sitting looking at the video of the attacks on this thing when I realised that, while the force field apparently surrounded the entire robot, it was still able to ingest and excrete the soil. Thus I believe that the force field is designed to prevent missiles or other attacks, but doesn't stop slower objects. We need to approach it much more slowly."

"So you can gently lob that…thing…into the robot's maw?"

"That's the plan, yes," Cockroach said.

"You're not going to break this one too, are you?" Monger said. "I'd like to take an intact one back home, one of these days."

"Hopefully this should just give it a spot of indigestion," Cockroach commented, hefting the small device. "Allow me access to the interior. It's an adaptation of one of my earlier doomsday devices, down-scaled a little."

"And how are you going to get near the intake?" Monger asked.

"That's where we come in, General," Susan said. "Bob and I are the ones who actually have to put it in. He can stretch to get to the very top, so he'll access the hatch and I pass him the, uh, the device once he's there."

Monger looked up at them, and nodded. "Cockroach, have you given Susan her headset? I want you coordinating, remember."

"All arranged, General. It's nice to have fancy equipment…though not much of a intellectual challenge, really. I'd prefer to have made something from a toaster oven and sealing wax."

"It's more important that it actually works for once," Monger growled.

"Ain't that the truth," Link said, stretching. "Okay, looking good. What do I do?"

"First rule of combat: always have backup," the general told him. "That's you and Cockroach."

"Backup? What the hell? I should be up there as well!"

"Ginormica can handle this one on her own," he explained. "You just sit tight. We'll call you if we need you."

"So that's it? I'm benched? I'm sitting this one out?"

"I don't have time for this, Link," Monger growled. "We're not a Little League sports team. Ginormica, Bob, you set?"

"Looks like it," Susan told the general.

He saluted. "Good luck, Majors."

Susan saluted back. "I'll do my best."

"Piece of jello," Bob with a relaxed grin.

Susan stood up, carefully carrying the modified doomsday device.

"Ready, Bobby?"

"We are gonna have so much fun!" Bob shouted happily.

Susan headed down the hill at a gentle jog, with Bob close behind, as Link watched them go.

* * *

In a few moments they neared the behemoth. The noise was tremendous as it slowly gouged a path through some rapidly-abandoned low-rise apartments on the edge of town.

"My God, it's immense," Susan breathed, her heart racing.

"Cut the chatter, Ginormica," came Monger's voice in her ear. "Is Cockroach's idea correct?"

"Approaching the robot now," Susan said. She bent down and picked up a large piece of rubble, and tossed it at the machine. It bounced back, crackling, and blue rings of force rippled out about ten feet from the robot's surface. Susan then snapped off a streetlight, and very carefully probed the field. She met resistance, but the force field did not throw her back. A firm push, and the streetlight pole was through.

"Looks like the Doc was right, General," she said.

"I told you not to doubt me!" came Cockroach's voice, followed by an insane laugh.

"Okay, you two move slowly towards the robot. No sudden moves," Monger ordered.

Susan and Link carefully stepped towards the robot, which was crawling ahead slowly, the huge bucket wheel scoop on the end of the boom swinging very gradually from side to side as it churned up the concrete and soil to a depth of about ten feet.

"Feeling resistance," Susan said. It was like she was enveloped by a tingling pillow, but she could push on through, reaching the other side.

"Can you reach the cutting wheel boom?"

"Probably," Susan answered. She stretched up. It was just out of her reach. "I'll have to jump. Bob, come on up, and hold Doc's device."

The blue blob scrambled onto her hand, and she brought him to her shoulder, handing him the device.

"Grab hold," she told him, and leapt upwards. She caught a beam underneath the boom, and was able to easily pull herself up thanks to her enhanced strength. In a moment, she was standing on the boom.

"Hang on!" Cockroach warned her, watching on a monitor screen hooked up to a telephoto lens. They were about to crash through another apartment block, and he could see Susan look around. She braced herself, and caught a huge chunk of concrete, smashing it in two with a blow from her fist. Cockroach gasped, and a shiver ran up his antennae. Demonstrations of Susan's strength never failed to awe him. Especially when she herself didn't seem to realise quite how strong she was. It made her seem so innocent, despite her power.

* * *

Susan made her way to the end of the boom, and gingerly edged around to the front as the robot's boom arm emerged from the other side of the ruined building. The gigantic bucket wheel was rotating just behind her, and she didn't want to slip. Her heart was racing, and she hoped Bob wouldn't take too long.

"Right, now the only ingress is the bucket wheel hatch," Cockroach was telling her in her earpiece. "The bomb needs to go into the upper intake near the top of the wheel. Bob, you'll need to climb up a bit, and then Susan can hand you the bomb."

"Gotcha," Bob said. "Susan will hand me her bum. Wait, how does that work? Can she detach it?"

"Bomb, Bob," Cockroach told him.

"Bomb Bob? Wait, I'm the bomb?"

"No, you will take the bomb, the thing that Susan is holding, and put down the hole you will find by your feet. I mean, uh, under you."

"Gotcha!" Bob said happily.

Susan heard some strange strangled noises from Cockroach in her earpiece as Bob stretched up to the top, wrapped himself around a protruding piece of equipment, and then pulled the rest of his body up, along with the small bomb. "Ooh, what a nice view from up here!" he said.

"Hurry, Bob! I can see the hospital!"

"Oh, so can I! No, wait, that was a horse in a puddle."

"Bob!" Susan shouted, getting rather annoyed.

"Hello?"

"Bomb in the hatch, now!"

"Oh, okay. No problems. Hasta la vista, baby," he said, dumping it in the hopper hatch.

"That's Spanish, not Italian," Cockroach told him. "Three, two, one… Hang on!"

"Bob! Hang on!" Susan called!

"What for?" he called.

"Just hang on!" Susan gripped part of the robot's frame tightly and braced herself. She could see the hospital building coming slowly closer. And closer. And nothing was happening.

"When is this thing set to explode?" she heard Monger ask.

"It should have exploded almost immediately," Cockroach muttered nervously.

"It hasn't worked!?" Susan shrieked. "You're kidding me!"

"Biggles!" Cockroach swore. "I knew I should have used more matchsticks!"

"Cockroach, you idiot!" Monger said. "Now what?"

Susan looked behind her. It was hard to tell with the dust and the horrible din, but she could see the white shape of the hospital looming dangerously near.

"I'll have to get in there and manually do it," Cockroach said.

"No, that's too dangerous," Susan told him. "You'll be minced!"

"We haven't got any other choice!"

"Yes we do!" Susan shouted. She braced her feet, and grabbed a bucket on the wheel. It slipped out of her grip, but she caught the next one, slowing it. She shifted position to get better leverage, to get under it more and push up. But then there was a sudden massive explosion, rocking the entire boom and hurling Bob to the ground. Susan found her feet sliding out from under her, and her hands slipping on the muddy bucket. Shrieking in fear, she fell beneath the relentlessly turning wheel.

* * *

Cockroach was staring out towards the robot, almost hidden behind a building, Monger beside him using binoculars. Suddenly he jumped in shock as a horrible scream shot through his earpiece.

"My God! Susan! Susan!" he shouted.

Monger dropped the binoculars. "Jeep, now!" he ordered.

"Link! Into the jeep!" Cockroach shouted, joining Monger in the jeep, Susan's cries of pain still sounding in his earpiece.

"We're coming, Susan!" Cockroach told her. "We're coming! Hang in there!"

"This is Papa Bear!" Monger said into his radio. "Monster down! Repeat, monster down! Medical team required immediately! Ready the chopper for evac!"

* * *

Susan felt a blinding pain shoot through her as the bucket caught her arm and smashed it against the support members. She screamed in agony, pushing desperately at the wheel with her free hand. The bucket was slicing into her arm, and the pressure and pain were growing unbearable. Then it stopped. With a loud lurching shriek, the sharp edges of the bucket cut through her forearm to the bone, but no further. The wheel jammed, and the horrendous din of the mechanical noises grew even louder, then suddenly stopped with an ear-rending shriek of metal on metal as the gears stripped.

* * *

"Hurry!" Cockroach shouted.

"I am!" Monger retorted as he spun the steering wheel, sending the jeep sliding across the dirt road and onto the field.

"She did it!" Cockroach said. "The wheel—it's stopped!"

"Can you see her?" Monger called.

"No… Wait, up there! By the bucket wheel!" Cockroach shouted. "Susan, we're nearly there! The med team are coming!"

Her cries were getting weaker.

"Just a few more seconds," Monger said, skidding the jeep to a stop in the carpark beside the bucket wheel, which had stopped rotating just fifty feet from the hospital. But the robot was still moving slowly forwards. It would still flatten much of the building if they couldn't stop it.

"No!" Cockroach gasped, seeing the blood spattered on the ground. He dashed forwards, pressing through the force field. He scrambled up the wheel, and over to Susan's limp form. She was still breathing, shallowly. Her right arm was wedged between a bucket and the frame, badly cut and covered in blood.

"Susan!" he called. "Susan, can you hear me?"

"Doc, it hurts, it hurts so bad," Susan moaned, weeping in pain.

Cockroach carefully moved onto the wheel, checking her out. The edges of the bucket had cut into her forearm, but had stopped at the bone.

"You're going to be all right," he assured her. "The cuts look nasty, but aren't too deep—and your bones are… your bones are… amazing…." He could see how the thick metal of the bucket had been buckled upwards by the pressure it was exerting on Susan's arm, and felt dizzy for a moment, overawed at the incredible strength her body now had.

Susan moaned again. "General! Where's that damn medical team!" Cockroach shouted.

"Just arriving," Monger told him. "Get that force field down and stop the robot!"

"Link! Bob! Get up here! Help her! Keep her talking!" Cockroach called.

Bob and Link clambered up the bucket wheel, and made their way to Susan's side as the mad scientist scuttled up the robot's side and into the hopper maw. Now that the wheel had been stopped, it was safe to enter, so he made his way to the control unit in the heart of the robot, and got creatively destructive.

* * *

Susan was finding it hard to remain conscious. The pain had settled down to a dull, thumping throb that felt like her arm was being run over by a tank. She was vaguely aware of Bob, or perhaps Link, talking to her about something, and then there was a muffled explosion, jarring her and sending a fresh wave of pain through her tortured body. She blacked out, and the next thing she was aware of was a sense of flying, soaring through the air, and a tremendous thumping din above her.

A white-clad figure moved in front of her. It was hazy and out of focus. Susan was confused. It looked like an angel. But… an angel with a funny head… and big eyes.

"Am I dead?" she moaned.

"I am very glad to say you are very much alive, my dear," it said. "Rest now. We'll be there in a jiffy."

"I'll rest, angel…but… I want to complain about the noise upstairs…"

She closed her eyes as the morphine took effect, her face still showing her pain. Cockroach looked down at her unconscious form, her injured arm roughly bandaged and secured over her chest, as the huge Sikorsky thundered low over Rome.

"No, my poor sweet giantess," he said, carefully wiping her tears away, "it is not me who is the angel.…"

* * *

Susan slowly regained consciousness. Her arm was throbbing, but the pain was much less now. She cracked open her eyes, and took a bleary look at it. It was thoroughly bandaged up, and her alien uniform had been removed, replaced with a makeshift tank top and brief shorts. She sighed. Yet again she had been stripped and dressed in new clothes while she was unconscious. If this happened again, she decided, she would spare them the trouble and just go naked.

"My dear, are you awake?"

"Doc? Is that you? Where are you?" she whispered. Susan tried to sit up, but felt dizzy and slumped down again. She felt a tiny pressure on her left shoulder, and twisted around, seeing him standing nearby. "Did we stop it? Is the hospital safe?"

"It is. And you did stop it," he corrected her. "You're a hero, my dear. No thanks to me. I am so, so sorry for this. It was my fault. The timer was off! I'm an idiot! I could have killed you! You must hate me!" He banged furiously on his head.

"Doc, come on, don't beat yourself up. Of course I don't hate you! I couldn't imagine you ever doing anything that would make me hate you."

"That's very sweet of you, my dear, but I was still sloppy! I mixed up metric and Imperial measurements for the fuse!"

"Relax! We stopped it, remember? Now… where am I?"

Looking around, Susan realised she was in a huge room that looked like… Some sort of sports club, Susan decided as her eyes began to focus properly.

"The gymnasium at Sapienza University of Rome, School of Pharmacy and Medicine," Cockroach explained.

She looked over at Cockroach. She had a distinct memory of a dream in which he had appeared as an angel, carrying her to Heaven.

"I remember flying… I thought I was dead…" Susan said quietly.

"We airlifted you here in a Sikorsky CH-53E heavy load chopper. One of the few helicopters large enough to carry you."

"Just as well you had one handy," Susan said with a slight smile. Just like the Doc to give her all the useless technical details…

"Ah, she's awake!" came an unfamiliar voice as Susan heard footsteps.

"Get the General!" said someone else.

Susan twisted her head to the right to see who was talking. It was a short bald man, in a long white coat like Cockroach, standing by a desk near her and studying the computer screen on it with intense interest. Another was heading out of the gymnasium.

"I am glad to see you awake, Major. My name is Doctor Alex Cunningham, with the United States Navy's Sixth Fleet. Please relax."

"Ginormica!" Monger came striding into the gymnasium at high velocity.

"General?" Susan tried to salute, but the agony in her arm stopped her. She moaned in pain.

"Don't try moving that arm," he told her. "You were very badly injured by the robot."

"When I asked if there was anything you could jam in the wheel, I wasn't expecting you would jam yourself," Cockroach added. "If it wasn't for your quantonium-infused skeleton you wouldn't have an arm left."

"I don't follow you…"

"The full force of the bucket wheel couldn't so much as dent your bones," Cockroach explained happily. "They are fantastically strong. They'd have to be, of course, to support your frame, and especially to support the stresses your muscles put on them when, say, catching a falling reactor core, but even so…"

"They're unbreakable," Cunningham told her.

"Essentially unbreakable," Cockroach added. "You'll understand we didn't do any testing…"

"Yikes. That's amazing," Susan said, trying to move her arm. "Ouch. But my arm still hurts like hell."

"Your bones are more or less invulnerable," Cunningham explained, "but your flesh isn't quite as strong. Luckily the ulna and the radius lie very close to the surface, so there was relatively little damage."

"I suppose I should be thankful," Susan said.

"Indeed you should," Cunningham told her. "And you are healing very quickly as well. Normally wounds like yours would take weeks to heal. But at this rate you should be able to be discharged in three or four days, and then you can return to the States."

"Can I do some sightseeing before that, General?" Susan asked, a little nervously.

"I think we can delay our return by one day," Monger allowed.

"Great! Oh, how are the others?" she asked.

"Bob? He's an indestructible gelatinous mass. That thing could have rolled right over him and he'd be fine. And Link wasn't anywhere near."

"Why not?"

"I got him to sit this one out," Monger explained. "We didn't need him."

"Hmm. He wouldn't have liked that," Susan commented.

"He's a team player. He knows what that means. Best man-–uh, woman… monster… person—for the job."

"I hope so…"

"Oh, and you'll be interested to note that your suit, the alien one, got ripped by the bucket wheel—"

"Oh no!"

Monger held up his hand. "Let me finish. It got ripped, but when we checked on it, we found it had somehow repaired itself. We don't know how, of course."

"Sweet," Susan admitted. "I rather like that suit."

"Yes, well, it appears to be quite resilient," Monger admitted. "Oh, and the Pentagon photographer and press liaison will be in here later, as well. Along with their Italian counterparts. I've promised them your full cooperation."

"You're kidding. Sir…" Susan groaned.

Monger held up his hand. "It's not a press conference. Just a briefing, and some statements. We want some nice pics of you all bandaged up."

"Why?" Susan asked.

"It's good publicity," Monger admitted. "Making you look a little vulnerable will make it easier for people to accept you, and the injury also makes you look more heroic."

"Great…" she sighed. "I hate the press."

"Well, they love you, and if you want the world to love you too, you'll at least pretend to love them," Monger ordered her.

Susan scrunched up her face, but nodded. "Though if they ask me about Derek, there may be some squashing involved."

"Ix nay on the squashing, Major. Captain, where's that gelato I ordered?"

"Here it is, General," an Italian soldier said as he came in, carrying two large buckets. "Five litres of _zuppa inglese_, five litres of _stracciatella_!"

"Oh cool! General, you're amazing!" Susan exclaimed. "This was so kind of you."

"Just doing my duty, Major. Making sure you get back on your feet asap. People in hospital always get ice cream," Monger told her. "You'll have to eat it left-handed, I'm afraid," he added.

"General, for genuine Italian gelato, I would lick it straight from the tub if I had to." Susan informed him gently.

"Now the others are waiting to see you, so I'll head off." He returned Susan's slightly awkward left-handed salute, and strode out.

"Oooh, cake!" Bob said happily, slithering in.

"That's not yours, and it's not cake," Link scowled. He looked up at Susan. "Well, you're a hero again. Single-handedly saving a hospital. While I get to sit it out."

"Oh come on Linky," Susan said. "We were just the advance guard. You were backup, ready to jump in if we failed. And we nearly did, remember? I slipped and got my arm caught. See?" She held up her bandaged arm carefully.

"Well, she only slipped as my bloody timer was off by a minute," Cockroach noted. "And she would have been able to stop that bucket wheel herself anyway."

"Yeah, well, whatever," Link said. "I'm going to look for some squid. This sugary milk stuff ain't for me." He waved his hand dismissively, and left. Susan wondered if she should call after him, but decided not to. Link was like this after the Golden Gate robot, she remembered. If he wasn't a hero, he tended to get a little moody. He'd get over it soon enough.

"Is it for me?" Bob asked, distracting Susan from worrying about her friend.

"Would you like to try it?" she offered. "Wait! Don't just absorb it! Here, take it from my spoon. And don't absorb the spoon!"

Bob slurped up a large spoonful, and made a face. "Cold! Too cold!"

"Yeah, it's frozen, silly," Susan laughed. "You want to try some of this gelato, Doc? It's really good."

"How sweet is it?" he asked. "Since my tastes changed, the only human food I can tolerate is essentially pure sugar."

"It's pretty sweet, I guess," Susan said. "Try it."

Cockroach took a wee scoop with his finger. "Acceptable, I suppose," he said. "I should be able to cope with this."

"I'm sure the Italians would be very happy you find their famous gelato 'acceptable'," Susan joked. "Anyway, we have ten litres of the stuff to eat up, and I'm not sure what that is in gallons, but it sounds like a lot."

"It's about two and a half," Cockroach told her.

"Oh, okay. Not a massively huge amount, then."

"Not for you now, no," he replied.

"It sure is nice not having to worry about my waistline," Susan commented, taking another scoop of the chocolate. "Thanks to this Quantonium, I can eat as much as I like."

"Well, your nutritional needs are carefully calculated by the army, and servings adjusted. Plus you don't have access to that many snacks, fizzy drinks, or comfort foods. So it's not as if you are likely to get fat anyway."

"True," Susan admitted, looking a bit downcast. "And there's the fact that anything with a texture is like baby food. Kinda makes me less inclined to pig out anyway. Still, there's nothing like a tub of ice cream when you're depressed."

"You're not depressed now, are you?" Cockroach asked nervously.

"No, no, not really. No, I'm not," Susan added more decisively, "I'm just a little frustrated. Stuck here indoors, causing everyone to worry about me, and being unable to go sightseeing."

"We'll make it up to you," Cockroach promised, taking another finger-full of gelato. "Bob, don't take all the _zuppa inglese_!"

* * *

"Oh, it's all gone," Bob said sadly a surprisingly short time later.

"So it is," Susan agreed. She picked up one tub and licked it clean.

"You have a… er…" Cockroach gestured to where his nose used to be.

Susan crossed her eyes trying to see the tip of her nose, then wiped it with a finger. "Ah, thanks. I didn't want to waste any..."

"Was it worth it?" Cockroach asked.

"Oh, totally," Susan admitted. "Though to be honest I'd have preferred to have it on the Spanish Steps."

"Why in particular on the Spanish Steps?" Cockroach asked.

"Because of _Roman Holiday_," Susan explained.

"Because of whose Roman holiday?" The insect-headed man looked confused.

Susan looked at him, stunned. "Are you telling me you've never seen _Roman Holiday_?"

"Oh, the movie you mentioned?" he asked. "I haven't seen it, to be honest. Is it any good?"

"Any good?" Susan asked, even more stunned. "It's just about the most romantic movie out there! It's why I wanted to come to Rome for my honeymoon! It's about a princess, played by Audrey Hepburn, who escapes her duties for one glorious day, and travels around Rome incognito with a reporter who is pretending not to be one, so he can do a story on her, but he falls in love with her and doesn't do the story."

"And they get married and live happily ever after?" Cockroach asked.

Susan shook her head, her face a little sad. "That's the best part about it. They can't get married. She's a princess, and he's just some reporter. She had her duty, her position, and she can't do what she really wants to do. Except for that one free day in Rome."

"And they eat gelato on the Spanish Steps?"

"Well, yes, among other things," Susan told him. "Ever since then, I've wanted to have my first gelato on the Spanish Steps." She looked around. "Instead it's in a gymnasium converted into a hospital room." She sighed.

"At least it's in Rome," Cockroach reminded her.

"True, there is that," Susan agreed, looking happier again. "I just wish I had the freedom to sneak out whenever. But unlike Princess Ann, I can't ever be incognito."

"You are a bit like a princess, I think," Bob noted slowly. "Princesses have lots of good things, like you do, but they don't have much freedom either."

Cockroach looked the blue blob. "When on earth did you get that profound?" he asked.

"Profound? I didn't know I was pro-lost…" Bob said, looking confused.

Susan laughed. Then she yawned widely.

"I think you're still a little drowsy from the pain medication," Cockroach noted. "Monger wants you to talk to the press liaison officer later, so we'll let you get some rest now.

"Yeah, okay. See ya Doc," Susan mumbled, yawning again. In a moment she was alone, staring up at the beams supporting the roof. It was immensely frustrating to think that just outside those walls lay the city of her dreams. There weren't even any windows she could look out of: the gymnasium was lit by skylights. So she lay back and watched the clouds slowly drift through the blue sky, thinking about where she would go once she was free, and soon fell asleep.

* * *

"Major, wake up. The Pentagon press liaison is here, along with his Italian counterpart."

Susan groaned, and rolled over. She found herself face to face with Monger and four rather stunned-looking people, two in American uniforms, and two in what she presumed were Italian ones.

"Oh, General, already?" she asked, saluting him and sitting up carefully.

"Good afternoon, Major," one of the Americans said, saluting. "I am Captain Harrock, and this is Lieutenant Morgan, my photographer."

"Susan Murphy," Susan said, saluting them back.

"Ciao, bella signorina. Sono onorata di conoscerti. I am il Capitano Montagna, Esercito Italiano, uh, Italian Army." He saluted her and added a low bow.

"Bella gigantessa. Io sono Sottotenente, I mean, Second Lieutenant Ricci," his aide, a young dark-haired woman carrying a camera, added with a smile.

Susan smiled back, and saluted them as well.

"Captain Harrock will be in charge," Monger told her, "and assist Captain Montagna with the translations of any American words he doesn't know."

"I'm sure he knows a lot more American—I mean English—words than I do Italian," Susan noted wryly. "I've been practicing, but I couldn't catch that. What did he just say?"

"I am honoured to meet you, most beautiful lady," Montagna said in fluent, Italian-accented English.

"Oh, wow, thanks," Susan replied, blushing.

"So how do you find our most beautiful country of Italy?" Montagna asked.

"Well, to be honest, I haven't had much of a chance to see it yet," Susan admitted. "But I really want to. I wanted to come to Rome for my honeymoon, you know."

"Ah, splendido! La città eterna! The Eternal City! She is so much wonderful, si?"

"Si," Susan agreed emphatically. "And I hope to see it soon!"

"Anyway, Major, if I could get us back on track," Harrock said with a slight cough. "This marks the second alien robot that has threatened Earth. In both cases, you were able to defeat the robot when no one else could, and at minimal loss of life. Indeed, in this case you suffered a serious injury in your attempt to save the hospital patients. Could you tell us a bit about the strategy you used to defeat this alien robot?"

"Well…" Susan started, glancing at her bandaged arm, in a sling around her neck. "I don't really know. I mean, that is, we had a strategy, but it didn't work that well."

"You mean your arm?"

"No, no, that was an accident," Susan hastened to explain. "Doc's bomb didn't go off in time so I needed to try and stop the wheel physically."

"I gather you weren't strong enough," Harrock noted, as Morgan continued to take photographs.

"No, I was too strong enough," Susan retorted. "Why does everyone have to doubt me? I was plenty strong enough to stop that wheel. I just slipped and got caught, that's all."

"My apologies, Major," Harrock said quickly. "I didn't mean to insult you."

"No, that's okay," Susan told him. "I'm not offended. I mean… it's just that not too long ago I had a bad experience when someone doubted my abilities. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm sorry."

"Do ya'll want to get some photos of Ginormica with the other monsters?" Monger asked.

"No, not just yet, General, if you don't mind," Morgan said. "Look at her—the vulnerable giantess, injured horribly as she saved peoples' lives. Such power, such vulnerability—the press are going to love it. Ginormica's the hero of this one."

Susan bit her lip. She didn't like being singled out like this. Yet again. They were supposed to be Team Monster…

* * *

**NOTES ON THE CHAPTER**: Sorry it's a little long. This was a tricky chapter to write, especially as action is not my forte. I thought about splitting it in two, and leaving it on a cliffhanger, but decided not to be so cruel. Besides, we all know Susan won't die. Her injury is a little nasty, but I have kept the gore to a minimum, especially as I don't much like gore myself.

The title is pinched from Shakespeare, "...and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest." (Hamlet, Act 5, Scene 2)

There is a real Santa Lucia Hospital (several, since St Luke is the patron saint of physicians, surgeons, and butchers (true!)), but I have moved it a little.

General Lazio is not real, but the Granatieri di Sardegna Mechanized Brigade is: it's the division of the Italian Army based in Rome. In the Lazio region...

I have decided Susan's bones are going to be essentially unbreakable, for the various reasons of physics I noted. She's not invulnerable however, as we also saw in "God Help the Outcasts" so it's not a matter of being Superman.

The Sikorsky CH-53E is something like the world's third-strongest chopper in terms of lifting ability, and the only one likely to be anywhere handy. I did spend time on the net researching this, mainly to check that in fact it was possible for any helicopter to carry 12 tons.

The Sapienza University of Rome, School of Pharmacy and Medicine, is quite real, and near Roma Termini Station. No gym there, as far as I can tell, however. Never mind.

The United States Sixth Fleet is based near Rome, and there is a NATO base as well, so figured Monger would use them as liaisons rather than bringing over a whole team.

"Zuppa inglese" and "stracciatella" are both (very tasty) gelato flavours: "zuppa inglese" literally means "English soup," and is basically trifle flavour, and "stracciatella" is like a very fine chocolate chip.

Italian translations: I've tried to keep them to phrases that aren't too hard to guess, but just in case, the translation of "Ciao, bella signorina. Sono onorata di conoscerti" is, I hope, "Hello, beautiful lady. I am honoured to meet you." (I don't speak Italian, but have confirmed that all phrases I use are actually used in Italian. I read one story here which depended on machine translation to toss in a foreign language, with hilariously bad results. So if any of these phrases are actually wrong, please let me know!)

Lots of notes for this chapter. The next one should be up very soon. And, as always, comments, critiques, and reviews gladly accepted.

[posted: 3rd March 2013]


	12. Roman Holiday

**12. Roman Holiday**

After three days in the hospital, Susan was finding being confined there immensely frustrating. She was in the middle of Rome, the city she had dreamed about visiting for so long, and she had even less freedom than when she had been a prisoner in Area 52. At its highest, the gymnasium was barely tall enough for her to stand in, so it even felt more cramped. She couldn't even leave the gymnasium, apart from the grounds outside. It was so isolating, and very dull as well. Not to mention the difficulty of dealing with various physical requirements one-handed.

After a light dinner, Susan was lying on her bed of mattresses, reading some of the local press articles that had been translated into English for her, when the door to the gym opened.

"Hey, Giny."

Susan turned at the familiar voice. "Link? I've barely set eyes on you for days," she told him. "Where the hell have you been?"

"About. Checking out the sights," he said. "Some of those Italian girls are hot, man. Okay, no bikinis, and I can't chase them, but hey—they all wanna chase the Link, dude."

"Good for you," Susan replied. "I suppose it makes a change from you chasing them."

"Yeah, I tried a bit of that. But they all wanted me to catch them. That's no fun. So how are you holding up stuck here?"

"It sucks," Susan said emphatically. "And why the hell haven't you been in to keep me company?"

"Yeah, time flies when you're having fun," he admitted. "Still, I hear you've had all sorts of visitors. The President of Italy, for example."

"Yeah, a nice old guy," Susan admitted. "He called me L'eroe di Roma, which means the Hero of Rome. But it's mainly been various boring repetitive press briefings and interviews."

"I thought you weren't going to give any more," Link pointed out. "Not after the paparazzi hassled you back home."

"Yeah, I said that," Susan admitted. "But things are being kept more controlled here, and the press isn't quite as nasty. Or if they are, I can't understand them 'cause it's all in Italian. But they love me over here. Check these out," she added, showing him her cuttings.

"That's as you keep telling them how Rome is your dream city," Link noted, not bothering to look at the cuttings. "'Course they'll damn well love you for saying that."

"Yeah, well, I just wish I could get out and see it!" Susan shot back. "You've been hooning around the place, doing God knows what, while I've been stuck in here making nice to boring politicians and press! I want to go out!"

"You'll be able to in a day or two, Monger said."

"I've been able to go outside the gym into the university grounds, and look over the rooftops, but the damn doctors keep saying I need to rest. I feel fine, dammit! My arm stopped hurting days ago. Well, yesterday, anyway."

"Yeah, I'm really glad to see you weren't hurt bad," Link admitted. "We were—I was worried when we heard your scream."

"Thanks," Susan said with a smile. "I know you were. I'm just glad it wasn't you that got caught by the machine, or you'd be dead by now."

"Well, anyway, you hurry up and get better," Link ordered. "I wanna get back to Insecto. She'll be missing me badly by now."

"And you her. I know you better than that. Look, you wanna have a game of cards or something?"

"Yeah, sorry, I told Bob I'd help him find some parma ham," Link said. "Catch you later, though."

"Oh, okay. See ya, I guess," Susan said with a sigh as Link waved and headed out. She was alone again. She hated being alone.

* * *

"Good news, Major," Cunningham told her after breakfast the next day, after replacing her bandages. "I think you are about ready to leave us. And you should be able to do without the bandages in a couple of days."

"Finally!" Susan exclaimed, standing up. Her head was brushing the ceiling. "My arm feels fine, don't worry! Just a few twinges."

"I still cannot believe how fast you healed," Cunningham admitted. "I wish we had a usable sample of Quantonium—just think how it would help in medicine. You wouldn't care to donate your body to science when you die, would you?"

"Uh, I hadn't actually considered that," Susan confessed. "I… I'll have to think about it."

"Please do—if we could isolate the Quantonium, use its healing power… We could save thousands of lives."

"Well, I'll… I'll bear that in mind."

"Thank you, Major."

"Ah, Susan, I heard you were free to leave today," Cockroach said, scuttling in. "I was hoping you would, uh, well, that is, if you want…"

"What is it, Doc?" Susan asked, looking down at him. "You're not usually this inarticulate."

"No, no, you're right, I'm sorry." He took a deep breath, and straightened himself up. "I was planning on taking a little tour of Rome, and wondered if you would like to accompany me."

"Of course I would, Doc," Susan laughed. "Are you kidding? I've been cooped up here for days—do you know how frustrating it's been?"

"I can imagine, yes"

"Are Link and Bob up for it?"

"Well, to be honest, I… That is, well, I was hoping it could be just you and me."

"Yeah, I guess they wouldn't appreciate the romance of Rome," Susan agreed, not at all unhappy that it would be just the two of them.

"Uh, perhaps not quite to the extent we would…" Cockroach stammered.

"Wait, what about the people, crowds, and all that?" Susan asked. "I don't want to have to worry about hurting anyone."

"Monger will arrange a police escort," Cockroach explained. "He's also going to send along a photographer, but there will be no press. You won't have to answer any more questions."

"Good," Susan said with an emphatic nod. "So…" she added, bending down to get her head near Cockroach's level, "where were you hoping to go?"

"Well, what would you like to do?" he asked.

Susan thought a bit. "Now that I'm here, where do I want to start?" she eventually said. "There are so many places…. I could do some of the things I've always wanted to."

"Well, why don't we do all those things, together?" Cockroach asked. "We'll leave the others here, not worry about the press, about aliens and robots and being monsters. Today's going to be a holiday."

"But you know, I'm not so into museums and all that," Susan warned him. "I just want to explore; no dry sensible stuff. I want to have fun! You sure you want to do a lot of silly things?"

"Whatever you want is fine by me, my dear," he assured her. "Although I would like to take you to the Palatine Hill…"

* * *

"Okay, Majors," Monger said. "You'll have a discrete police escort, just to make sure you don't damage things, and people, and to keep the paparazzi at bay. But no set schedule. Just... don't be too late back. We leave first thing tomorrow."

"Thanks, General," Susan said, giving him a salute and a smile. Cockroach stuck with just the salute, however.

The large side doors were slid open, and she could duck under and stand up in the warm morning sunshine.

"Buon giorno, Signorina Ginormica," a young man in an Italian police uniform said, saluting. "I am Captain Carraci, this is Lieutenant Saviano, and it will be our honour to show you around our wonderful city today!"

"Buon giorno, Captain. Please, call me Susan. And I would be honoured."

"Grazie, signorina Susan. Where you like to go first?"

"Ooh, the Spanish Steps, please."

"Ah, but of course. On the way, may I suggest the Fontana di Trevi?"

"The Trevi Fountain? Love to, thanks," Susan said, giving Carraci a big smile. "Come up to my shoulder, Doc," she offered.

With Cockroach safely ensconced on her broad shoulder, they headed out. The police motorbikes moved ahead of her, lights flashing but sirens off, and the army photographer followed on a moped.

"Is the fountain far?" Susan asked as she walked carefully behind the motorbikes. The cars and scooters gave her a wide berth, and she did her best to remain in the same lane as Carraci.

"Nowhere in central Rome is," Cockroach assured her. "Especially for you."

"I'm just glad the place isn't full of overhead wires," Susan admitted.

"But some of the streets will be pretty narrow," he warned her. "Much narrower than your American streets."

"I'll be careful," she told him, stepping gingerly over a parked car.

* * *

It was a short walk for them, past the Baths of Diocletian and down the Via Nazionale, and then past the Quirinal Palace. Cockroach kept up a running commentary on everything from the Diocletianic Persecution of Christianity to the various popes who had used the Quirinale as their residence. The moment they entered the small plaza of the Trevi Fountain, the flashing blue lights of the police motorbikes announcing their presence, there was a collective gasp from the tourist throng, who immediately switched from taking photos of the fountain to getting shots of Susan. Carraci and Saviano blew their whistles when any of them tried to come too close, and shouted out something in Italian Susan couldn't understand.

"I'm sorry," Susan called down to the crowd. "Please don't get too close—I don't want to hurt anyone!"

"And no questions, no autographs, prego," Carraci added. "Our Heroine of Rome is on her holiday, please."

"Grazie," Susan said to the crowd. With a bit of breathing room now, she was able to carefully walk to the edge of the stepped seating going down to the fountain, and admire the sculpture.

"This fountain is two and half centuries old," Cockroach told her. "But in fact, this was also the terminus of the Aqua Virgo back in the Roman Empire. In other words, this site has been a source of water for Rome for two millennia."

"Wow, that's amazing," Susan breathed.

"Oh, and some trivia," Cockroach added. "Trevi itself comes from the Latin for 'three roads' or 'tre via'. As does the word 'trivia'. A place where people congregate and gossip about trivial things."

"That's freaky," Susan admitted. "But I feel I should be taking notes if you're going to be lecturing me."

"No, no, my dear, no lectures. Not today. Well, not many," Cockroach conceded. "At least not constantly. Probably not constantly…"

"Doc?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"Hush," Susan said with a laugh.

"Signorina Susan, do you have any coins?" Carraci called up, interrupting her.

"Oh, damn," Susan admitted. "Not a single one. I should have brought some."

"Ah, of course, coins in the fountain," Cockroach realised. "I'm afraid I don't have any either. We didn't have much use for money in prison."

"Fear not, signorina," Caracci said. "Here!"

Susan bent down carefully, Cockroach holding tight, and let Carraci place a one-euro coin on her fingertip. She stood up, facing away from the fountain, and carefully lobbed it over her shoulder. There was a loud round of applause and cheers from the assembled tourists.

"Did it go in?" she asked, after smiling a thanks to her audience.

"Just over there, near the triton," Cockroach told her.

"What's a triton?" Susan asked, looking at the various sculptures.

"That creature with a human torso and fish tail, blowing a horn."

"Oh, a mermaid—I mean, merman? Cool. Anyway, this means I'm coming back to Rome! But before that, the Spanish Steps!"

"This way, signorina," Caracci said, heading back to his motorbike.

* * *

A little while later she found herself standing at the foot of the iconic Spanish Steps, surrounded by people. There was quite a noise from the crowd, and almost everyone was taking photos of her, but her police escort was keeping them away from her feet with harsh reprimands in Italian and English.

"Welcome to the Piazza di Spagna, signorina," Carraci called up.

"This is so amazing," Susan said happily. "I'm finally here! I can't believe it! After all this time!"

"Indeed you are, my dear," Cockroach informed her. "These steps are nearly three hundred years old, did you know?"

"Really?" Susan asked, tuning out the rest of Cockroach's lecture. She was too happy to pay attention to facts and figures. She needed to appreciate the moment, the atmosphere, the sights, sounds, and even smells. Susan sighed happily. She was here, finally. On her very own Roman Holiday. And there was something she had to do now….

"Doc, never mind the lecture—I want to have a gelato! Excuse me, Officer Carraci!"

"Signorina?"

"Where can I get a gelato, like Audrey Hepburn?"

"Ah, of course, the famous movie." He shrugged. "I am sorry, signorina, eating is no longer permitted on the steps. You understand, all the tourists, dripping the gelato—the steps is a mess."

Susan pouted briefly, just to make a point. "Oh well. Come on, Doc, let's climb the steps!"

"Scusi!" Carraci called to make way as Susan carefully made her way up. She wasn't able to actually climb each step individually, so for her it was more like walking up a steepish hill. Halfway up there was a flat area, and she paused to look around. Being so tall was an advantage at times, she decided. The view was wonderful, and she didn't need to worry about people blocking it.

She carried on up around the flat area to the larger one behind it, where, with her escorts' help, she was able to get a place to sit down, with her lower back against the circular balustrade at the top. Cockroach scuttled up to the top level, where he could lean on the balustrade and be at her head level, just behind her right ear.

"Do you know how long I wanted to come here for my honeymoon?" she asked Cockroach quietly.

"I dare not guess."

"Since I was nine," Susan replied. "That was when I first saw _Roman Holiday_. And now I am here…."

"Was it worth it, my dear?" Cockroach asked. "I know you'd have preferred to come here on a nice romantic honeymoon, and not be constantly surrounded by photographers and police and people staring at you."

"I kinda would have liked a bit of romance," she admitted quietly. "Here with someone I loved, just the two of us, sharing a pizza at some quiet bistro, doing the Mouth of Truth trick..." She looked at her fingers. "I could get my little fingernail in, perhaps…"

Cockroach laughed softly. Susan twisted her head around to look around at him. True, he was no Gregory Peck, but then she was no princess, either. He was a mutant half-insect, and she was a fifty-foot giantess. Both monsters. And both here, together, in the city of her dreams.

"You know," she told him. "Maybe this isn't quite the romantic honeymoon of my fantasies. But then so many of my fantasies have gone wrong. Reality is better. And the reality is that I can think of few people I would rather spend a day in Rome with than you, my sweet little mad genius."

Cockroach's heart skipped a beat. He was suddenly very acutely aware of her scent, a gentle, very slightly musky scent tinged with fresh soap—she no longer bothered with perfume, due to the amounts that would be required. Cockroach was rather glad of this: in his limited experience, the women he knew tended to slather the stuff on altogether too freely. And for his acute cockroach sense of smell it could be rather overpowering. But Susan's scent was warm, familiar, and relaxing. Even though he had only known her for just over two months, they had been two very intimate months, of constant, close contact. She was part of his world now. And he hoped she always would be.

* * *

Their next stop was the Pantheon, which Susan had been able, with some contortions, to squeeze into and stand upright under the giant dome as Cockroach told her all about how it was built in AD 126, the Roman use of concrete, and how the interior could perfectly fit a sphere. On leaving and heading out into the Piazza della Rotunda, Susan spotted a gelato shop.

"Oh, wait, hold up. We can have some gelato here, right?"

"Of course, signorina," Caracci told her. "What flavours would you like?"

"Uh, I've leave it to you," she said.

"Nessun problema," he grinned. "The Italian government will be pleased to provide our honoured guest." He said something to Saviano, who shouted out something in Italian, and people began moving out, clearing a space. "Please to sit down, signorina."

"Grazie," Susan smiled, and carefully eased herself down onto the cobblestones, leaning against one of the ancient Roman pillars of the Pantheon as Caracci, accompanied by Cockroach, went and ordered. Susan smiled and waved at the tourists taking her photo, and even signed a few autographs while she waited. In a few moments Caracci and Cockroach were back, carrying two large tubs of gelato, and accompanied by a short round man who was gesticulating excitedly and calling out to her in Italian.

"This is Signore Albani, owner of the gelato shop," Cockroach explained. "He wants to meet you and thank you personally for what you have done."

"Buon giorno, Signore Albani," Susan said with a smile, holding out her hand. Albani took her fingertip and began showering it with kisses, all the while keeping up a steady flood of Italian.

"Scusi, non parlo Italiano," Susan told him, blessing the way her captivity, first at the Monster Containment Facility and then in the converted gym, had given her time to learn a fraction of the language.

"He says…" Caracci started to say, and then shrugged. "He thanks you on behalf of all of Rome, he is honoured to provide you, gratis, with Rome's finest gelato on this lovely summer day as a token of thanks, he is in love with you, he wants you to marry his son... And so on."

Susan laughed. "Lei è molto gentile. Too kind. Grazie. Roma, ti amo. Mi piace il gelato—I love Rome, I love gelato."

"Bravo! Lui parla molto bene l'italiano!" Albani said, giving her a low bow.

"Well, I don't speak it that well," Susan admitted with a smile, and gently brushed his cheek with her finger. He kissed it again, and bustled off. Susan took a look at the gelato.

"What flavours are these?"

"This is _zabaione_, and this one is _bacio_," Caracci explained.

"_Zabaione_ is a sort of egg custard flavour," Cockroach added, "and _bacio_ is chocolate and hazelnut."

"Sounds delish," Susan assured him. "And tastes even more delish," she added, taking a scoop and sighing.

"Come, let us carry on," Caracci suggested. "You can eat and walk."

"Wonderful! Just like Audrey Hepburn!" Susan exclaimed, jumping to her feet as the tourists gasped. She waved to them, then followed the two policemen into the maze of narrow streets that made up central Rome. Some of them were so narrow she had to go sideways, but she didn't mind. It was enough to be wandering through Rome, eating delicious sweet gelato off her finger, with her dear friend along with her. Her Roman holiday was becoming even better than she had ever dreamed it would be.

* * *

The sun was lowering in the sky, lengthening the shadows. Susan sat back, leaning against an ancient pine on the Palatine Hill, and gazed over the pinkish ochre rooftops of the city. It was a pleasantly warm afternoon, with only a few clouds in the sky, and the sun felt wonderful on her body. She could hear the wind in the pines of Rome behind her, the far-off murmur of traffic—along with numerous car horns—and distant voices drifting up the hill. Susan felt completely relaxed for the first time in ages.

"It's been a wonderful day," she commented. "The Trevi, the Spanish Steps, the Vatican, the Castel san Angelo, the Pantheon, the Colosseum, the…what was that long plaza?"

"The Piazza Navone," Cockroach told her. He was standing at the railing, looking down on the Foro Romano.

"Oh yeah. With that cool fountain of the four rivers. Do you still have the caricature that artist there did of me?"

Cockroach held up the folder he was carrying. "Safe and sound, my dear," he assured her. "And I'm glad you enjoyed the tour."

"You know, I think my favourite part of the day was just walking at random down the narrow back streets, seeing all the people, the buildings. The city's got such a wonderfully lived-in feel to it."

"Well, it is lived in. That's what makes it a city," Cockroach commented dryly.

Susan laughed. "You know what I mean. It's not soulless. And I got a great view right into the windows of the apartments on the top floors. I could see Romans just living their day to day lives. It was amazing. The whole city's amazing!"

"It is indeed," Cockroach agreed. "Uh, it's getting a little late. We should be heading down soon. I want to show you the Forum."

"Just a bit longer," she pleaded. "I don't get many chances to just sit. Carraci's keeping the tourists away, with all their cameras and stares, so I can relax, and not feel like some animal being hunted."

"Yes, it's always open season on giantesses…." Cockroach admitted.

"But it was worth it, despite the attention," Susan told him. She took a deep breath of Rome's air, and let it out slowly. "This was the most wonderful day ever. Thank you for sharing it with me."

"It was my pleasure, my dear, and I say that in all possible sincerity. I only wish the day had been the romantic honeymoon you had hoped for."

"With Derek? Ha!" she said bitterly. "Not that we would have come here anyway. Fresno! What's so great about Fresno?"

"I have never been," he said diplomatically.

"And even later… I mean, Derek always had a giant ego, and giant ambition. But not giant ability. Okay, so he got a job in Fresno. Like, wow. Yeah, he might make Milwaukee or even Minneapolis some day. New York? National network? Not likely. And you know what? He never would have got that European posting either." Susan sighed. "It would always remain just out of his grasp, a symbol of his failed career, tainting our lives forever."

"Unfortunately quite likely, yes," Cockroach murmured quietly.

"But you know what? It doesn't matter any more. Derek didn't get me here. I'm here because of what I did. I didn't need Derek to come to Rome. I earned this trip, through my own abilities."

"Indeed. You were—to coin a phrase—amazing."

Susan laughed. She carefully stretched out her legs and looked around. "But however it happened, I'm just glad to be here. Rome is so much better than I ever dreamed it would be." She closed her eyes, and sighed, breathing in deeply and letting the air out slowly.

"It is the Eternal City," Cockroach noted quietly. "The air is thick with the scent of centuries."

"You mean the scent of flowers, Doc," Susan said dreamily. "I wonder what sort they are?"

"Verbena, a plant sacred to the ancient Romans," he told her. "It has been grown on the Palatine Hill for more than two thousand years."

"Wow, that's freaky," Susan admitted. "I still can't get over the history this place has. It's amazing."

"Indeed," Cockroach agreed, coming over and sitting on a bench beside her. "Have you noticed the manhole covers?"

"The manhole covers?" Susan asked, wondering about the non sequitur.

"They've all got 'SPQR' on them."

"Yeah? What's that stand for? Sewage Pipes are Quite Roman?"

Cockroach laughed. "Not quite. It's Latin. _Senatus Populusque Romanus_; the Senate and the People of Rome. It was used by the Roman Empire back two millennia ago. And it is used by the City of Rome today."

"So basically if you brought Julius Caesar back to life now, he could go and see that, and know he was in Rome? Amazing!"

"An awe-inspiring history, indeed. As the medieval poets said, _Ubi sunt qui ante nos fuerunt_? _Where are those who were before us_? Think of all the people who have ever lived here, generation after generation, each one with their own stories, their own struggles, their own dreams, their own loves; each one forming a single thread that weaves the long and intricate tapestry of this ancient city…"

Susan looked at him with mild surprise. "That was really poetic, Doc. I never figured you for the romantic sort," she admitted with a slight giggle.

"I have depths, my dear," he told her in a dignified tone.

"I guess. I just always figured that as a man of science, you would think with your head, not your heart."

"I do," he agreed. "But the operative word there is 'think.' A good scientist is not some machine, some calculating device that sees the world as nothing more than a series of equations. How can you be a true scholar if you cannot feel a sense of wonder and awe at the natural world, a sense of almost numinous reverence in the face of the cosmos? No, science without passion is nothing, for it is passion that drives us to seek answers. But we need to be disciplined and rational to properly analyze and interpret the universe; we need to be able to detach ourselves from what we wish the universe was, and accept it for what it is. It's about not letting your heart rule you; not about having no heart to begin with…"

Susan gazed at him, her deep blue eyes wide open. "That's amazing, Doc," she admitted. "You know, I guess you really are passionate. Each time you laugh with that mad joy when you try a new experiment. It always used to freak me out, but now I think finally I know why you do it."

Cockroach's left antenna quivered. "I'm so glad you understand," he told her, looking up at her doe-like eyes.

She nodded, biting her lip gently. "I think I do understand you, truly, for the first time. Except for one thing… What does 'numinous' mean?"

Cockroach laughed gently. "Ah. It is the _mysterium tremendum_, the 'overwhelming mystery': the simultaneous feeling of awe and dread one experiences when confronted with the tremendous power of nature. Terror at the majesty of creation, wonder at your role in its infinite complexity, and peace at its harmonious beauty."

"Wow…" she breathed. "I think that's the one of the most romantic things I've ever heard. You know, I really am glad I'm here with you, and not Derek. He would never have been able to make me feel this way. You don't know how much I love y—that about you…."

She reached out and carefully placed her hand around his back, holding him gently as he sat on the bench. Her fingers found his right arm, and cradled it, her fingertips caressing his hand as she held it delicately.

Cockroach's left antenna quivered, and his heart rate jumped. He wanted so very much to say something, respond with something to let her know how he felt, but he realised his head was once again telling his heart not to take the lead. These were not the right thoughts to be having. It was clear Susan was very vulnerable emotionally at the moment, having built up this visit to Rome in her mind as the ultimate romantic fantasy, and he must not read too much into what she said and did. She loved him like a dear friend, and that was all that was needed. And, as her friend, it was his responsibility to keep her from getting hurt. Even if that meant hurting himself.

He thought back to the Audrey Hepburn classic, which he had made a point of seeing as soon as he learned how much it meant to Susan. He sighed softly as he realised how apt that story really was. Susan was the untouchable, perfect princess, isolated high on her pedestal, and he was Joe Bradley, walking away from her at the end of the film, unable to be with her, alone…

.

* * *

**NOTES OF POSSIBLE INTEREST I HOPE**: As I said in my first story, I think Rome is way cooler than Paris, so I have changed Susan's dream city to Rome. I've been to both Rome and Paris, and far prefer Rome (Paris is dreadfully over-rated I think). The whole "Roman Holiday" motif helps there as well. Unlike Susan, I actually only saw it when I was writing this chapter, to see if I could steal (borrow) some themes and ideas from it. Those of you who have seen it may recognise some of Audrey Hepburn's lines when Susan tells Doc she wants to do silly things. In addition to the "always open season on princesses/giantesses" line.

All facts about Roman sights and sites are correct, thanks to the magic of Wikipedia and other websites. Including the ban on eating on the Spanish Steps. And the plants on the Palatine Hill. Which, incidentally, is where we get the word "palace" from, as the palaces of the Roman emperors were up there.

I hope Signore Albani's (and Susan's) Italian is correct. I did check and it seems to be, but again, corrections are most welcome.

I think you will all appreciate that I did not do an exhaustive point-by-point tour of Rome, and just cut to the end after a few introductory scenes...

Doc's bit about heart vs. head is in response to those that feel Doc X Susan won't work as he's too much the cold calculating science-only type and lacks passion and heart. My argument to that is basically what Doc says. Carl Sagan said something along those lines as well - "numinous" was a favourite word of his.

**ETA**: Saw the first ep of the television series. Holy crap that was the most awful pile of steaming cow turds I have ever seen. I like "Penguins of Madagascar" (a lot). I liked the MvA Halloween special. This, however, was bad bad bad on every single possible level, from character design to animation to story to direction to, well, everything. And they made her able to change her size at will? I have a standing refusal to ever read fanfic that stoops to giving her a magic size control ability (ruins the most important part of her character as far as I'm concerned). That took it from the realm of sheer Bad to actively Evil. No, as far as I am concerned the TV series is so far out of canon it should be shot from a cannon.

[26 July 2013] How is it, despite having read and re-read this chapter dozens of times, before and after posting, I still missed this booboo? "he in honoured"? Argh...


	13. In the Eye of the Beholder

**13. Eye of the Beholder**

Monster Force One touched down on the runway at Area 52 with a gentle thump, and taxied to a stop. Susan got out, following the other monsters, and stretched happily.

"Oh, that was a long trip!"

"You're telling me," Link groused. "Twelve hours in that flying tin coffin. I ran out of beer after hour four."

"At least you had room to move," Susan retorted. "I couldn't even sit up straight!"

"Okay children, it's been a long flight, no bickering," Bob said happily. "Beddy-byes now!"

"That's my line," Monger told him as they took the lifting platform down. "Just not in those exact words. Monsters, you've done brilliantly! Especially you, Ginormica! We've saved Rome from attack by an alien robot, and let those Europeans know how strong American monster power is! I mean, let them know that they can call on us any time they need us! Now get some kip!"

"Yep, another day, another city I saved," Susan said with a grin.

"Don't get cocky, Major," Monger told her. "None of you can manage without the rest."

"Yes, you're right, of course," Susan admitted.

"Susan, I... I hope you had a good time," Cockroach told her.

"I had an amazing time, all thanks to you," she informed him with a smile. "I hope we have another attack soon, maybe this time in Tahiti, or Hawaii."

"Hmm. I doubt aliens are that considerate," Cockroach noted.

"I hope they attack somewhere Insecto can help out," Link pouted. "I need a swim; I'm parched. See you all in the morning."

"Yeah, and take care of your sinuses," Susan called after him. "I thought the engines were revving up, but it was your snoring!"

"Not as bad as your giant coughing," Link shot back. "Just about burst the plane apart!"

"That was just a drink that went down the wrong way!" Susan retorted.

"Bed, monsters, all of you!" Monger shouted. "Or I'll put you on report!"

"They're just tired, General," Cockroach said. "We all are."

Susan yawned widely. "I sure am. I really need a shower too. I'd love a nice warm bath," she added a little wistfully.

"Not possible, I'm afraid," Monger told her.

"No, I know…" Susan sighed. It was just another of the sacrifices she had to make to be Ginormica….

* * *

"Okay monsters—I mean majors, you've earned some R&R. Two days' leave in Vegas!" Monger informed them the following day.

"Oh yeah!" Link crowed.

"Wow!" Bob exclaimed. "What's a vaguest?"

"Vegas, dude," Link said with a grin. "Las Vegas, Sin Capital of the World! You and me, bro, in the casinos! We'll take Doc along—that brain of his can be of use."

"Sounds great," Susan said dully. "I hope you have a great time. Bring me back a souvenir t-shirt."

She stood, and headed off to her room.

"What's the matter?" Link asked, looking after the departing giantess and scratching his head.

"I think Susan would have liked to come as well," Cockroach suggested.

"But she still can," Monger said. "There's quite a few things to see outdoors, like the Bellagio Fountains, and she can fit down the Fremont Street Experience easily—it's ninety feet tall. She doesn't want to gamble, does she?"

"Unlikely," Cockroach said. "Maybe she just doesn't know about the outdoor stuff…?"

"Go and see, Cockroach," Monger ordered. "You know her best."

Cockroach scurried down to the floor and across the common room. Susan was not in her room, but he found her sitting on the floor in the old common room, idly playing with some of the junk Cockroach had collected for experiments.

"Susan, my dear, what's the matter?"

She wiped a tear away from her eyes. "Nothing. I hope you have a great time. Like I said. I'm not coming."

"There are things you can do in Vegas as well, you know."

"Maybe, but you heard Link and Bob. They want to go hit the casinos. I can't do that. I can't be with you guys there. And I don't want to go and be on my own."

"They wouldn't dream of going if it was going to make you unhappy," Cockroach said. "Nor would I."

"I... I know," Susan admitted. "But I don't want them to think they have to hold back and not do things because they're worried about me. I want them to go and have fun. Really. They've earned it. And so have you."

"You can still go, and see the outdoor things," Cockroach said.

Susan drew her knees up to her chest. "What, the fountains? Some coloured lights? I would be on the outside, looking in—I couldn't go see a show, I couldn't go shopping in all the malls… It's not really a place for me. And they'd have to block off a couple of lanes of traffic along the Strip just to let me get around." She shook her head. "No, I'm not a city girl. Not any more. But Doc, don't you breathe a word of this to them, and don't you even think about not going if you want to."

"To be honest, I have no interest whatsoever in casinos. And no interest in letting Link and Bob use me to try and game the system."

"You're not just saying that to comfort me, are you?"

"My dear, what on earth makes you think I have the slightest interest in gambling? I have nothing but contempt for it. What would I do with money? I have everything I need right here. And as for the intellectual challenge—such as it is—my own work is far more fulfilling."

"And a bigger gamble," Susan commented with a small laugh. "Judging by the number of times you've blown things up. You're lucky you have such a resilient body."

"We'll let those two go mad in Vegas, and do something on our own here," Cockroach told her.

"Ah, I know!" Susan exclaimed. "We'll have a picnic tomorrow, out by the lake. You almost never go outside. It'll be fun! The lake's really beautiful, and there's a nice view of the mountains."

"Um, I'm not sure about that…" Cockroach said nervously. "I'm not an outdoorsy person."

"Oh come on," Susan said, giving him a cute little pout. "You need to get out more! I don't want to sulk down here for two days while those two have all the fun! Do it for me, please…"

"How can I refuse those big pleading eyes, my dear," Cockroach said. "Very well then. But I draw the line at actual swimming."

"Paddling?"

"We'll see," he said with a slight nod. While the idea of going outside, into the hot, dry Nevada desert, was extremely unappealing, the idea of an extended quiet, private time with Susan was extremely appealing, and he knew that he would have said yes to anything she suggested. Besides, it made her so happy, and he loved seeing her smile. It filled him with a wonderful sense of acceptance and trust. He never wanted to see that smile vanish.

* * *

"Now, you'll visit Insecto at least twice a day, right?" Link asked anxiously the next morning.

"Yes, of course," Susan said. "Now get going, or you'll miss the personnel shuttle to Vegas. And don't lose all that money Monger gave you!"

"Hey, we got just got ten years of back pay," Link chuckled. "Time to have some fun!"

"I'll keep an eye on them, Ginormica," Monger told her. "And their money. We'll be back on the 19:00 hours shuttle tomorrow evening. Remember, Colonel Hathi is in command in my absence."

"Roger that, General," Susan said, giving him a salute. Cockroach added his, and the general returned the salute before following Link and Bob out of the room.

"Ah, peace and quiet at last!" Cockroach exclaimed. "No more bothersome interruptions to my work!" He cackled madly.

"Oh come on, nobody ever bothered you at work," Susan said.

"Well, not much," Cockroach admitted. "But it will be a little easier to concentrate."

"But not just yet. We need to arrange for a picnic lunch for tomorrow. If Monger—I mean Hathi—can give us a basket or something, I can carry it up."

"Sounds delightful, my dear," Cockroach told her. "I shall be ready whenever you are."

"Thanks for agreeing, Doc," Susan said. "I know you don't like to go outdoors much."

"I've never had a reason, until now," he assured her gallantly.

* * *

"Ah, isn't this so much better than moping around inside all day?" Susan said the next day as the hatch opened and the missile loading platform took them outside.

"It's rather warmer," Cockroach admitted. "Look, there's the colonel with our lunch."

The two monsters saluted as Colonel Hathi drove up in a flatbed truck.

"It's not much, majors, but should be enough. Doctor Cockroach's lunch is kept very carefully sealed so it doesn't contaminate yours, Ginormica. Please leave the empty container here when you have finished."

"Thanks so much, colonel," Susan said. She picked up the six-foot wide box, and allowed Cockroach to ride on her shoulder as she headed along the familiar path to the small lake.

"There, isn't that lovely?" she asked, putting their lunch down in the shade and letting Cockroach scramble to the ground.

"It is quite nice," he admitted. "I've never been up here before. Rather warm, however."

"Early summer in the Nevada desert," Susan told him. "Ah, feel the sun on your face, the breeze in your hair!"

She kicked off her sneakers and took off her tank top. Then she became aware that it had gone very quiet. Susan suddenly remembered she wasn't with the fish-ape, but with another human—or half-human, at any rate. A man, in fact, and one who was now doing his very best to look anywhere but at her bare breasts. Susan covered them with her arms, and knelt down beside her friend.

"I'm sorry, I'm just so used to stripping off and skinny-dipping here with Link. He's not even the same genus, so there's never been anything weird about it, not really—I mean he spends all his time completely naked, and we don't think anything of it. I didn't realise you might not have the same reaction. I should have worn my bra, I guess. I just didn't think. I'm sorry."

"Uh, um, if you would prefer to be modest, I could take a walk or something while you bathe," Cockroach said, facing away and looking fixedly at the ground, his antennae refusing to be still.

"No, you don't have to," she said. "Somehow… I don't really mind if you see. I… I think I'm comfortable enough around you now. I'll keep my panties on, for the time being. Just so you don't get too nervous."

"Are you sure?" Cockroach asked, not turning around .

"Yes, quite," Susan assured him, slipping her shorts off. "Link's seen me naked, Bob's seen me naked, army doctors and that have seen me naked, some weird alien's seen me naked—hell, the entire damn world has seen photos of me naked, thanks to jerkwad—and so my best friend doesn't need to be shy or embarrassed."

"Your… best friend?"

Susan gently wrapped her long fingers around Cockroach's body, holding him gently and stroking his back with her thumb. "Yes. I've never had a friend like you before. You're kind, warm, funny, intelligent. You're always there for me, and you never get angry at me, or try to make me feel bad. I used to think it was my love for Derek that kept me sane in prison. But it wasn't—it was your friendship. So yes, you're my best friend, and there should be no barriers between us. I trust you enough to be completely open."

Slowly, reluctantly, Cockroach turned around, his eyes still looking at the ground. Susan bent even lower.

"I know you're a gentleman, and it's very sweet of you. I don't want to you to feel embarrassed. I'm not. I might have been, once. But I'm Ginormica now, with a big strong body. And I won't be made ashamed of it," she finished, sitting upright.

Cockroach's heart was thumping. He desperately wanted to look, and desperately wanted to not given in to the feelings that were constantly surging beneath his calm exterior. He took a deep breath, and looked up. He saw strong tanned thighs, each the length and girth of a tree trunk, a pair of thin white cotton panties, then her smooth stomach, her cute belly button, and then, finally, her breasts. They were more beautiful than he had ever imagined. With an effort, he tore his gaze away, and carried on looking up, to see her sweetly smiling face.

"There, was that so hard?" she asked gently. "Now your turn."

"My—my turn?" Cockroach stammered.

"Yes, silly. How can you swim in all those clothes?"

"I thought I might, you know, paddle a bit around the shallow end…"

"On a hot day like today? Don't be silly. You know you want to."

"I really don't think you would want to see my body," he said. "It's not…exactly normal."

"And your head is?" Susan said. "If I can do it, you can."

"Promise me you won't be offended, or turn away in disgust…" he said quietly.

"Never," Susan swore. "I'm bigger than that now," she added with an encouraging smile.

"You are," Cockroach agreed, slowly removing his lab coat. "I remember that for the first couple of days, you shuddered whenever you looked at me."

"I did?"

He nodded, taking off his shoes. "You might not even have been aware of it, or were too concerned over what had happened to you—and I don't, for a moment, think of blaming you—but yes, for a while, there was, um, disgust in your face when you saw me."

"I'm so sorry," Susan said, her face falling.

"No, no, no, please," Cockroach urged. "I told you, I don't blame you, I don't hold it against you, not for a millisecond. I know what I look like. And you were amazingly fast at accepting me. Once you saw me as someone who could help you get back to normal, you forgot all about how I looked, and only saw me as your potential saviour. That really meant a lot to me…"

"Well, one thing I never doubted: you have really nice eyes. Golden amber, always reflecting the light from somewhere."

"Uh, I… Most kind of you," Cockroach said, not entirely sure how to respond. By now he was ready to remove his undershirt. He took another deep breath, and slipped it off.

Susan saw a bronzed, shiny body, with segmented areas of chitin roughly following the human male torso, the pectorals and abdominals separated and defined. On each side of his stomach were what looked like semi-hard ridged areas, allowing him to flex from side to side. She was able to see how the chitin plates ended at his wrists, giving him human hands, with long, delicate fingers. His shoulder and elbow joints were almost pure insect, and his back was covered in a segmented carapace of some sort, almost like a shield.

"Not exactly Gregory Peck," Cockroach joked nervously. He slipped off his trousers, and stood there in his undershorts, fiddling with his thin moustache as he looked up at Susan for any signs of disgust.

She reached out to touch his arm gently with a fingertip, and traced it along and up to his shoulder and chest, which she tapped lightly with her fingernail.

"Maybe not Gregory's pecs, but there aren't many men who have pecs as firm as yours," she said with a smile. "You're not disgusting at all. What is this, by the way?

"It's an exoskeleton," Cockroach explained. "It's what makes me so impervious to crushing."

"Would I be able to stand on you and not hurt you?"

"Hurt me? No, it probably would hurt," he admitted. "Kill me? Unlikely."

"What if I were to lie on you?" she asked.

"Depends on how soft the part of your anatomy that was on top of me was," he noted logically.

"Oh, for you I'd use the softest parts," Susan told him with a smile, leaning forward.

Before he realised what he was doing, Cockroach had looked up at her bare breasts. They were so beautiful. It had been a long time since he had thought of himself as a man, as physically attracted to women. He longed to touch them, to gently caress them as he had once done long ago with someone else he had loved…. _No, no_, he told himself. _Stop this before it gets out of hand. You have nothing to offer her, she's on the rebound, she thinks of you as a friend, a mentor—and you would be no better than Derek if you were to encourage her in thinking there could possibly be any future with you. You're the mature one,_ he told himself firmly._ It's your responsibility to look out for her, to prevent her making silly mistakes…_

"Race you to the water!" he called out, and dashed off.

Susan was startled. But she was also a little relieved. Why did she keep trying to play with him so? She was being a tease, and it wasn't fair to her friend.

"Doc!" she called, standing up. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable!"

She walked down to the pond, and found Cockroach floating in the water, facing upwards. She eased herself into the cool water, slowly immersing herself in it as she lay down, her shoulders resting on the fine sandy bottom by the edge.

"Doc, I'm sorry…"

"For what, my dear?" he asked, his voice far away.

"I've been acting like a silly schoolgirl lately. Partly it was me feeling really comfortable in my new, strong body. But it's not just that. I think I was trying to get you—get someone—to see me as a woman, and not as a fifty-foot freak. It's like… I guess I'm trying to prove to myself that I am still physically attractive. I mean, after Derek's rejection, and most of that was because of my size and strength…. Sometimes I feel so… ungainly. A titanic lump. I guess I wanted to feel like I was still feminine, not a monster. Everyone sees the giantess first, the woman second, if at all. And I'm taking all my depression and anger at that and piling it onto you."

There was silence. Susan looked over at her friend, who was staring straight up, unmoving.

"Doc? You awake?"

"I'm sorry, I was thinking. I had assumed that since you realised what a jerk Derek was, you were glad you were no longer with him. And you were—you are. But I didn't realise that you might be more affected by his rejection than that—see it as a rejection of you as a woman, due to your new size."

"Yeah, I think you're right. As usual," Susan said, looking up at the cloudless blue sky. "Just because I don't need a man in my life doesn't mean I don't want one. I can't help being a bit romantic. It's what I am. Sometimes I think… No, of course I don't wish Derek hadn't rejected me. But…"

"You wish he were the sort of man who wouldn't have rejected you," Cockroach suggested.

"Yeah, that's pretty much it," Susan admitted. She stared into the infinite blue sky, trying to keep the tears from flowing. "I just don't want to be lonely. I don't mean I have no friends. I have you guys, I have my old friends. But it's hard to turn your back on a lifetime of conditioning, of being told romantic love is the ultimate meaning in life. Especially for girls. And extra especially when you know there is no one out there you can be with."

"It's hard for all of us, really," Doc said. "Link, me, and possibly even Bob."

Susan fell silent. "Dammit, of course," she eventually said. She sat up, the water cascading off her bare torso, and wrapped her arms around her knees. "I've been so self-centred. I've been acting like I'm the only one who wants to be in love, to be with someone. Why on earth shouldn't you, or Link, want love in your lives? I'm so sorry, Doc—I've just realised that even now, after all we've been through, there's some ways I haven't accepted you guys as real people, with real needs and wants. I'm such a selfish bitch!" She struck the water with her fist, sending up a smallish geyser of water.

Cockroach looked up at her, startled. "My dear, please, it's not like that at all! Of course it's harder for you! You're young, you were in love when you came, you've your whole life ahead of you, and we're just a bunch of crotchety old men grumbling about our lost youths."

"But it's still selfish of me," Susan admitted. "Just because you and Link don't go on about it, I sort of assumed it didn't matter to you. But I know it does matter to Link—he told me, once. Does it matter to you, Doc? Don't you ever want to find true love?"

"I… I do," he said, gazing up at her beautiful blue eyes. "I would very very much like to."

"Maybe one day we'll both find someone right for us," Susan said slowly, returning his gaze. She looked like she was about to say something, and Cockroach's heart rate jumped. Then she suddenly stood up. "I'm hungry! Let's have lunch."

Cockroach couldn't take his eyes off her nearly naked form as she walked away towards the picnic container, and bent down to pick it up.

"Oh, this was such a mistake," he told himself quietly. "Oh, she is beautiful…" It was almost painful to look at her, knowing that there was no possible way it could work out. Even without her size, there was no way he could ever have a true physical relationship with any woman, not after his anatomical changes. It was best he ignore that area; push it down into the dark depths he had kept it for the last half-century, locked away with everything else he had lost so it could no longer cause him pain. But it was so hard when she was always there, strong and beautiful and innocent and sweet. A constant reminder of what he had lost. And the pain he had caused.

Susan knelt down on a flat sandy area, and opened the box. She took out a tarpaulin, twenty feet on a side, which she spread on the ground, weighing it down with small rocks, no more than a hundred or so pounds each, and then removed Cockroach's carefully sealed container of…what exactly, she didn't really want to know. Then she opened her own lunch. Curry and rice, and it smelled rather good, she had to admit. There was a container of orange juice for her as well.

"Lunch is ready, Doc," she called, sitting down cross-legged on the tarp.

"Uh, are you going to eat like that?" he asked, approaching slowly and nervously avoiding looking at her breasts.

"I'm still wet," she explained. "It doesn't offend you, does it?" she asked, a sudden thought striking her. Doc was a bit old-school, and maybe a little conservative. Maybe he wasn't so much embarrassed as actually offended…

"Uh, no, certainly not offend me, not as such," he said. "It's a little awkward, I admit…"

"You don't need to worry. I'm really not embarrassed. I actually…" Susan went rather pink.

"Actually what, my dear?" he asked.

"Well, to be honest, I kinda like the way you look at me sometimes, as someone attractive. Sure, Link thinks I'm good-looking, but like a painting or a landscape. You… you see me as attractive as a woman. It's nice to be reminded of that."

"I fear it isn't very gentlemanly of me," Cockroach admitted.

"Is it gentlemanly to please a lady?" Susan asked.

"Of course."

"Then you can please me by helping me see myself as attractive, and not a scary giant."

"I have never seen you as a scary giant, ever," Cockroach said. "I've seen you as scary, and as a giant, but never as a scary giant."

Susan laughed. She lay down on her left side, bringing her eyes close to Cockroach's level, so she could use her right hand to eat.

"Does this affect you that much?" Cockroach asked. "How people see you, that is?"

"It shouldn't," Susan admitted. "But it does, to an extent. You know, I've been scared about getting too close to people. I mean, physically getting close. Every flaw is magnified. The tiniest lines around my eyes or mouth becomes great wrinkles, the fine hairs on my arms and body are clearly visible, my few freckles become great discolorations… I've been glad of my height many times, as it keeps people from seeing me too closely."

"You've never been afraid to show me," Cockroach noted. "No doubt as my own face is so hideous. But I can sympathise. You may laugh now, but before my, uh, transformation, I was considered very handsome—I was quite the ladies' man. Perhaps Derek and I have more in common than you might think."

"Never," Susan said emphatically. "I don't care what you were like years ago. It's who you are now that matters. And now you are everything Derek was not. Anyway, you make a very handsome bug as well. You know, the same reason why my face looks so much more gross than normal seen from a couple of feet away is why yours, to me, looks so much better. I look at you from further away than normal, so all the tiny imperfections are invisible, and I only see your huge golden eyes, cute little moustache, mouth, and the smooth bronzed skin or exoskeleton or whatever of your head. It's different, but not…unattractive, in its own way."

Cockroach's antennae started quivering again.

"Thank you, my dear," he murmured. "Very kind of you to say so."

Susan took another mouthful of curry, and her face turned serious.

"Sure, there are some weird people out there that have a thing for giantesses, but generally, guys don't want the Amazon. They don't want a woman who is taller and stronger than they are. Derek, for one. But even Link. Even though he's not even human, he still kinda resents me being stronger than him, maybe as he's still a male, with the male need to be bigger and stronger. That's ridiculous. Don't you think he's being a bit petty?"

"Perhaps, but then he's always been a bit cocky," Cockroach noted. "And you come along and out-monster him, then Monger sidelines him—no wonder his nose is out of joint. But in my case, my dear," he added, "that's not an issue. I have never been physically strong, so have no desire to compete in that respect."

"And I certainly can't compete with your intelligence."

"Perhaps not. But don't sell yourself short, my dear," Cockroach reminded her. "You're not remotely stupid either."

"You're so sweet, you know?" Susan smiled. "We're both giants—me physically, you intellectually."

"I am afraid I cannot quite claim that distinction," Cockroach said modestly. "Newton, Einstein, Maxwell. Those are the true giants of science. If I have been able to see any way at all, it is only by standing on their shoulders."

"Like you stand on mine?" Susan joked.

"Not quite, my dear," Cockroach replied with a wide smile.

"Because, you know, you can ride me any time you like."

"Ride you?" Cockroach started to laugh, and then Susan joined in as she realised what she had said. He looked up at her, at her sweet open face and her beautiful bare breasts, and finally felt comfortable at the sight. It was her gift to him, her way of expressing how comfortable she felt around him; how much she trusted him. And he knew he could never do anything to violate that trust.

.

* * *

**NOTES**: This was a tricky chapter to write. I wanted to add some element of physicality to their relationship in a way that would be not smutty or inconsistent, and still very subtle. Hopefully it is not too blatant. I really want to keep their relationship classy, and while mere nudity is not smutty in itself, it requires careful handling.  
Cockroach's physical form is based on the official description of him having an exoskeleton, and involved looking up pics of real cockroach underbellies for hints (not entirely a pleasant task). Almost none of which I used in the end. I like the idea of his exoskeleton giving him the physical definition most men can only dream of, however. I don't think it will be entirely lost on Susan, either.  
Colonel Hathi's name is of course a blatant steal from Disney.  
Susan could indeed fit down the Freemont Street Experience with ease. The height is accurate.  
Other than that, there's not a lot to say here. I'd be interested to know how people respond to this chapter: whether I've succeeded in skirting the smut, or if it just comes across as gratuitous.  
Next chapter up soon, as that one is 98% finished.

(Posted 25th March 2013)


	14. Mary Mary Quite Contrary

**14. Mary Mary Quite Contrary**

That evening, after the other monsters arrived back from Vegas, Monger drove into the common room in his jeep.

"Right, monsters, listen up. Someone I want you to meet."

Susan looked around, but could only see the general. "Who is it, sir?"

Monger got down from his jeep, and indicated a narrow box nearly six feet long on the back. "Ginormica, could you put that on the floor please—very gently."

Surprised, Susan lifted up the small wooden box with one hand, and laid it carefully on the floor. Monger prised open the lid to reveal a small figure lying under a silken sheet. Susan gasped.

"She's still a bit groggy. Give her a few moments," the general added, and took the sheet off to reveal a young girl, wearing an elegant crimson dress, whose age, Susan guessed, was no more than about twelve or thirteen. She was slim, with long dark hair, so dark it was almost blue, and very pale skin and lips.

"Who is this?" Link asked.

"The newest member of Monster Force—whether she likes it or not," Monger said.

"What? She's just a little girl, General!" Susan gasped. "You can't just take her away from her family like that!"

"In this case, she isn't and I can," Monger told her. "Ah, she's awake now."

The girl's eyes had fluttered open, and after a brief shriek, cut short, she slowly rose to her feet, stepping out of the box and facing them calmly with eyes of a shade of blue-grey so pale they were almost white. For some reason, Susan felt she was being observed and dissected clinically as the small child looked the fifty-foot giantess up and down, finally coming to rest on Susan's own darker blue eyes.

"What's your name, little girl?" Susan asked gently.

"I am Lady Mary Stewart, eldest daughter of the seventh Earl of Traquair. Kindly address me as 'Lady Mary,' not 'little girl'," she said in an English accent even more cut-glass than Cockroach's.

"Yeah, right," Link replied rudely. "This is America, kid. The only 'Ladies' we have are the toilets."

"Now now, Link," Susan told him gently. "She's our guest. Don't be rude. But why on earth are you here?" she added to the girl. "You look totally normal to me."

"I have been abducted by these foul kidnappers," the girl said. "Of course I am normal."

"No you ain't, Little Debbie," Monger said. "Why not show these nice monsters what you showed my troops?"

"Your troops were barbarians, General," the girl said. "I had a right to defend myself. And do not address me in that form ever again!"

"Hey now, didn't mean no disrespect," Monger assured her. "Just trying to welcome you to these here United States."

"And on what possible authority can you abduct a British citizen?" the girl shot back.

"The 1962 Anglo-American Agreement on Monster Relocation and Confinement," Monger stated. "That gives us the right to secure and isolate monsters captured in Britain on American soil, or vice-versa as required."

"That's how they got me, my dear girl," Cockroach told her. "But are you sure she's a monster, Monger? She looks perfectly normal to me."

"She looks perfectly pale to me," Link commented. "Ain't never seen anyone quite that pale. It's not healthy."

"Nonsense," Cockroach assured him. "Merely a delicate English lily."

"Most gracious, sir," the girl said with a small smile.

"So why is this poor child here?" Susan demanded. "Who is she, exactly?"

"Well, she's the eldest daughter of the seventh Earl of Traquair, all right." Monger informed them.

"I didn't actually know there was an Earl of Traquair," Cockroach admitted.

"I'm not surprised," Monger said. "Since the line ended when the eighth Earl died in 1861."

All the monsters slowly turned to look at the young girl, who glared back at them sullenly.

"Um… Out of interest, my dear, how old are you?" Cockroach asked her quietly.

"It is rude to enquire about a lady's age," the young girl replied. "But if you must know, I was born in 1771."

"Nearly two hundred and fifty years ago?" Susan gasped.

"Were you frozen in ice too?" Link asked.

"A mad scientist? The Philosopher's Stone? Are you immortal?" Cockroach asked eagerly.

"None of those, Doc," Monger informed him. "in fact Lady Mary Stewart died in 1784, aged just thirteen."

"Di-died?" Susan gasped. She looked at the young girl. "Are you sure, General?"

"Quite," Monger said calmly. "It's all official. Death records, a tomb, weeping parents."

"And this is Mary Stewart?" Link asked. "There's no doubt?"

Monger nodded, grinning. "You heard her. And no, she's not insane."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Link snorted. "What is this, a new game of Guess the Monster?"

"I just want you to be prepared for some of the monsters we'll be welcoming from the Old World. They're not like our home-grown American monsters. They are much older, and much more dangerous."

Cockroach turned and looked at the pale young girl.

"Ah. I have a nasty feeling I know what you are," he said, taking a step or two back.

"Is she a zombie?" Susan asked nervously.

Mary snorted. "Do I look like a shuffling, decaying corpse? Are all giants as slow as you?"

"Watch it, sister," Link growled. "I don't care how lady-like you are: insult our Susan again and I'll pound ya flat."

"No need for threats," Monger said, as Mary merely stared impassively at the tall amphibian. The general reached into his jeep and pulled out a bottle and a glass. He calmly poured out a red liquid into the glass.

"You're serving us wine, now?" Link asked.

"It's not for you," Monger said. He held the glass towards Mary. The young girl's expression had changed. Her tongue briefly darted out between her lips, and her eyes seemed paler than ever; her entire posture tense with desire.

"You're hungry, aren't you? It's been days, I know, since you last fed. Why don't you show these nice monsters what you really are? Then you can have some. It's fresh. And the real thing. A negative."

"Damn you to Hell," Mary said, then parted her mouth, flashing her teeth. Susan caught a glimpse of two long sharp fangs.

"Ah!" Cockroach gasped. "I was afraid of this…"

"Did I—is she?" Link asked, looking at Monger.

"Yes, she is," Monger said, carefully handing her the glass. The young girl grabbed it eagerly, and drained it in a single gulp.

"Woah. A real vampire… That is one Class A hardcore monster," Link breathed. He looked nervous.

Susan was stunned. "She's a vampire? I thought they were just stories!"

"Like giants? So what if I am a vampire?" the girl asked, licking the last of the blood off her lips. "You still can't keep me in here!"

She lashed out at Monger, catching him unawares, then Link, but found herself struggling in the air as Susan grabbed her.

"Put me down!"

"Ow! Don't bite me! General, she bit me! Does that mean—"

"No fears on that score, Ginormica," Monger assured her. "Contrary to popular belief, you can't become a vampire by just being bitten by one. If that were the case, half my men would be undead. You gave us quite the chase, little girl."

"I am Lady Mary, for the last time! Put me down!"

"Technically, not any more," Monger said as Susan gently lowered the girl to the ground. "Lady Mary legally died over two centuries ago, remember. From a mystery illness."

"That doctor was an incompetent bumbler," the child-like vampire hissed. "He paid for his stupidity!"

"You killed him?" Susan gasped.

The vampire turned her ice blue eyes on the giantess. "Like you haven't killed anyone."

"Not in anger, not like that," Susan said. "I could never."

"Sure you could. Easily," Mary told her. "And you will. And it will feel good."

Susan's eyes narrowed. "I see why you have captured her, General," she said. "You're right—it's best for some monsters to be locked up. Good work."

"Glad you approve, Ginormica," Monger said. "I'd like you and Cockroach to make sure she falls in line. He's a Brit, like her, and you're female, like her, so you're the best for the role."

"What a happy family," Bob commented. "Mommy, Daddy, and Baby."

The three members of the happy family looked at the blue blob with varying degrees of disgust and shock.

"You are sadly mistaken if you ever think I will allow that," Mary said scathingly.

"Yeah, you're so much older—you should be their great-great-great-great-great-great- grandmama," Bob noted happily.

"I have no intention of being anyone's family!" Mary spat. "Are you as stupid as you look?"

"Stupider," Bob told her cheerfully. "No brain!"

"Well, the two of you should get along well," Link commented to their new companion. "Since you clearly have no heart."

"And you have no manners. General, I refuse to be incarcerated with these…things. I demand to speak to the British Ambassador! You have no right to keep me here!"

"She does have a point, General," Susan admitted. "You let us go free—why have you imprisoned her—Lady Mary?"

"You were given your freedom in return for taking on the Friscobot, remember. And you're right, we no longer automatically incarcerate monsters just for being monsters. But this young lady has murdered quite a substantial number of people: she is a serial killer. She cannot be put in a normal prison, and it was decided that the best place to keep her from harming others was here. So here she will stay. Indefinitely. By which I mean for ever."

"For ever?" Mary turned even paler than usual. "But… do you know how long forever is for a vampire?"

"Our records indicate that the longest-lived vampire was over twelve centuries old," Monger noted. "So you should be with us for quite some time."

"But... I had to survive," Mary said. Susan noted she sounded a lot less arrogant suddenly. "I need blood to live. You know that. How can you lock me up for just trying to survive?"

"You don't need to kill to live," Monger said sternly. "And the fact that you are biologically required to drink human blood was taken into account. Otherwise you would have been treated… differently."

"You mean—" Susan gasped.

"Yes, he does." Mary said bitterly. "Stake through the heart, head chopped off, that sort of thing."

"So that will kill a vampire?" Link asked.

"Of course it will. What did you think? I could keep going without a head? Idiot!"

"Anyway," Monger said, cutting in, "I have to be off. Ginormica, Cockroach, and the rest of you—don't ever forget that though she may look like a sweet innocent little girl, she's really a bloodthirsty serial killer. I'm sure you'll all get on great! Oh, and the government has changed her name to Vampiretta!"

He saluted and sped off, leaving the four monsters with their new companion.

"What does he mean, they changed my name to Vampiretta?" Mary demanded.

"All monsters get given a monster name," Susan explained. "It's fine for people like Link, who never had a real name, but I certainly resented my new name at first."

"Ginormica? I can see why," Mary commented sardonically.

"Yeah, well, I quite like it now," Susan pouted.

"So… What do you people do all day?" Mary asked, ignoring the giantess.

"Television, movies, cards and gambling, lifting weights, working out, surfing the net, or we can go topside—you like to swim?" Link asked.

Mary shuddered. "I'm in Hell. Locked up with a bunch of uneducated witless morons. Don't you people even have any books?"

"Books? Of course we have books," Cockroach told her enthusiastically. "Mountains of books! Forests of books! Cascades of books! Swamps of books! Books on every subject ever studied, by every author who ever set pen to paper... Well, perhaps not quite every author. But certainly I have hundreds of volumes in my lab's library."

"Lab? What sort of lab?" Mary asked, her pale eyes lighting up. "Are you a scientist?"

"I try to be," Cockroach said modestly. "I got my PhD in biophysics from Cambridge, but moved onto biogenetics from a quantum physics approach."

"Really? My own interests are mainly in biology, trying to learn just what I am, though I have followed the recent developments in nanotechnology with some interest."

"I have been working on a paper on some interesting interpretations for biomimetic approaches," Cockroach told her. "It's a little speculative at this stage, as I lack access to the right equipment for testing, but would you care to read it?"

"Definitely," Mary said. "I'm sure you have it wrong."

"Come on then, my dear," Cockroach told her happily, and led the way to the lift to his lab area.

"Looks like Doc has a new friend," Bob commented.

"Yes," Susan said quietly. She watched them go with a strange sensation in her chest. She didn't quite know why, but something was a little disturbing.

* * *

The next morning Susan headed out to the common room, and took her seat at the table.

"Where's the Doc?" she asked, looking around. He wasn't at his lab desk.

"With the new monster," Link said.

"I don't see them," Susan said.

"I think they're in his quarters," Link commented. "Or hers."

"Oh."

"Are you… jealous?" Link asked with a grin.

"You want to go in Doc's room too but you can't fit, right?" Bob chimed in.

"Yeah, that's true, Bob," Susan said quickly. "I can't visit any of you in your rooms, can I?"

"But we can all fit in yours," Bob noted. "Party central!"

"No thanks—I need to sleep there," Susan said with a small laugh.

The food hatch opened, and their breakfast was served. Susan took her porridge and tea, and noticed a thermos on the table that wasn't normally there.

"What's that?" she asked.

"That, I believe, is mine," came the new monster's voice.

"Uh, good morning, er, Lady Mary," Susan said. "Did you sleep well?"

"Not remotely, but thank you for asking," the small vampire told her, taking a seat at the table on the living platform. She opened the lid of the thermos, and took a sniff. "Urgh. It's not very fresh."

"The food here isn't the best," Susan admitted.

"I am forced to agree, my dear," Cockroach said, taking his own seat and inhaling the bouquet of the mouldy stale bread on his plate. "I have tasted ambrosia, and next to that, the finest garbage in this facility is but a poor imitation."

"Ambrosia? Where?"

"Your parents' garbage," Cockroach said. "Such magnificent odours, such subtle, rich, layered scents and tastes. How often do they wash out their bin?"

"Uh, I don't think they do," she confessed. "It's only a trashcan, after all."

"Ah, that is the secret," Cockroach said wistfully. "Years of maturation, combining, mingling to create a veritable cornucopia of scent and flavour… And here I get a new, clean plate each time. Still, I shouldn't complain," he added. "It's not nearly as bad as poor Susan."

"Why? What's poor Susan's problem?" Mary asked, pouring out some blood into her goblet, and taking a sip. She made a slight face.

"Food no longer has much texture for her," Cockroach explained. "Everything tastes puréed due to her size."

"Interesting. I suppose it would at that. However, it's been so long since I had real food I cannot remember how it tasted," Mary commented.

"Can't you eat normal food?" Bob asked.

Mary sighed. "Unfortunately, no. The only thing I can digest now is blood. And it has to be human blood too. Though my research indicates primate blood in general should be acceptable. Apes, monkeys, and so on."

Susan shuddered.

"Yes, I'm sure we'd all like the luxury of eating normal things, even if it does feel like baby food," Mary commented acidly.

"I'm sorry," Susan said. "I'm just not used to…"

"Vampires? You thought we were myths? So are giants. Yet here we both are."

"Hey, don't hassle Susan, okay?" Bob cut in.

"No, no, she's right," Susan said. "I'm just a little squeamish at the sight of blood, that's all."

"If the alternative is starvation, you can get used to anything," Mary remarked dispassionately. "With the possible exception of this poor excuse for decent blood. I would much rather have it fresh, from the source, if anyone is offering…"

She looked over at Susan's left wrist, which was lying on the table beside her oatmeal, and licked her lips briefly, showing her fangs.

Shocked, Susan quickly hid her arm under the table, and Mary laughed.

"So tell me," Cockroach asked. "We know little of vampires other than myths and stories. You require blood to survive. What about sunlight—does it kill you?"

"No," Mary said. "I don't like it, as it hurts, but it doesn't kill me. Nor are coffins a requirement. Despite what that idiot Monger thinks."

"Garlic?" Bob asked.

"In the sense that I cannot stand the stench, then yes," Mary said. "But if I wanted your blood, and you had garlic around your neck, I'd simply rip it off."

"I don't have any blood," Bob noted. "I have gelatinous goop. Do you like goop?"

Mary ignored him.

"What about crosses?" Susan asked.

"Crosses and Bibles and all that superstitious nonsense are pathetic," Mary said dismissively. "What, you don't like me referring to the Bible as superstitious nonsense?" she asked, looking up at Susan.

"Well, I guess I'm not really all that religious, but I was raised Catholic," she said. "It's a little disturbing, yes."

"Good. Once you're dead you'll get a better perspective on these things, I'm sure. I did."

"What about mirrors?" Link asked. "I saw a vampire movie once, and the vampire wasn't reflected in the mirror."

"I definitely have a reflection," Mary told him. "Really, the only major differences between me and you….well, not you as such, but other humans, are that I am technically dead, and require human blood to live. Oh, and I have these useful teeth. Superior hearing and vision, especially at night, including near-infrared and ultraviolet. As well as fairly enhanced strength, and very greatly enhanced speed. As long as I am not kept half-starved by trigger-happy crew-cut generals with delusions of power."

"He starved you?" Susan gasped.

"Why do you think I was so eager for the blood he offered? I hadn't fed in three days."

"How often do you need to, ah, feed?" Susan asked.

"About as often as you need to eat," Mary retorted. "I dare say you could go for a few days without food if you had to. But you wouldn't like it."

"Excuse me for asking, my lady," Cockroach said, "but what does 'technically dead' mean?"

Mary opened her shirt, revealing a pale thin chest and a lacy red bra.

"Ooh! Boobies! That means he's… uh… wait a minute… female, right?" Bob asked excitedly, and Link nodded.

"Yes, very definitely, dude. A little scrawny, mind. I prefer a bit more flesh."

"Put your hand there," Mary ordered Cockroach, ignoring the other two and gesturing to her left breast.

"Uh, I'm not sure I really should…" he stammered.

"Don't be obtuse. I'm not asking you to grope my tit. Feel my heart. If it helps, think of me as a two centuries old crone, which is what I really am."

Cockroach nervously placed his hand near Mary's small breast, then almost immediately snatched it away.

"You're cold! And…you have no heartbeat."

"No. I don't breathe, either," Mary said. "Save for speech of course."

"Hey, that's like me!" Bob said excitedly. "I sometimes forget how to breathe, and can't say anything!"

"And those are peaceful times indeed," Link commented with a grin. "So, you don't need air—you could come underwater with me, right?"

"In the sense that I do not require oxygen, I could. All the oxygen my body requires is obtained from the blood I drink."

"So you need arterial rather than venous blood," Cockroach suggested.

"Ideally, though there is enough in venous if I drink more."

"How do you tell them apart?" Susan asked.

"Colour—venous is darker, arterial is bright red. See the stuff I am drinking. Also taste."

"Arterial blood must be harder to collect than venous," Cockroach mused.

"Annoyingly so," Mary said, nodding.

"Why?" Susan asked.

"Usually deeper, and with higher blood pressure. Biting into the wrong artery can really mess up your clothes."

"To be honest, I had never considered that," Susan admitted with a wry smile.

"It also means the thrall is more likely to die," Mary noted quietly.

"Thrall?"

"Old Norse term for a serf. Vampires used to ensure supplies by keeping herds of peasants. Now it's just a term used for, ah, a blood donor."

"So how does one create a vampire?" Cockroach asked. "How were you, uh, made?"

"That is extremely personal. I would prefer not to discuss that," Mary said haughtily.

A chime rang.

"Nice timing," Susan said. "Sorry, Mary, we have to head off. We have a couple of hours of training in the morning."

"Fine. I shall be plotting my escape. It can't be that hard to get out of here. Then I can head for the nearest city."

"Uh, Mary, do you know where the nearest city is?" Susan asked.

"Not the slightest idea. Can't be that far, though."

"Out here, yes, it can. Do you know where we are?"

"How could I? I was captured in London, drugged, starved, and shipped God knows where. All I know is that it's somewhere in the American colonies—I mean the United States."

"We're in the middle of the Great Basin Desert of the American Southwest," Cockroach explained. "There is no foot access in or out. It's over a hundred and thirty miles of bare, waterless scrub to the nearest city, with temperatures well over a hundred Fahrenheit."

Mary's face fell. She rested her head in her hands, and sighed deeply.

"Never mind," Susan said. "It's not that bad here, once you get used to it. And remember, we're all on your side. We monsters stick together."

"Shut up and leave me alone," Mary snapped, glaring up at her. "Go and do your lessons like a good little girl!"

"Hey!" Link said.

"No, it's all right," Susan said sadly. "She's just upset. Come on, I'll give you a lift."

Susan stood up, and collected the other three monsters. Alone in the gigantic room, the undead creature that was once Lady Mary Stewart did something she had not done in nearly a century. She began to cry.

* * *

**YET MORE NOTES**: Yup, it's my OC. Lady Mary Stewart, daughter of the seventh Earl of Traquair. Hopefully no one who has followed my notes (who knows how much I love to research things that go in my stories) will be surprised to learn that there really was a seventh earl of Traquair, Stewart was their name, and that the line went extinct when I said it did. It was actually quite hard finding a suitable candidate. I needed an earldom that went extinct at about the right time, and hadn't been given a new creation or changed into a dukedom or something. I initially went with the Earl of Kent (who did in fact have a daughter named Mary), but I decided I wanted Mary to be a child of the Age of Enlightenment, rather than earlier. Oh, and there is no earthly need whatsoever to have her belong to a real earldom: the story in no way depends on it. I just find that the more real I make things, the more real these characters feel to me.

Mary herself is an amalgam of a range of characters. The name "Mary" and certain aspects of her characterization are suggested by Lady Mary Crawley, with hints of Mary Stuart (Mary Queen of Scots: Traquair was a Scottish noble house), but are mainly to set her up as a sort of antagonist for Susan. Where Susan is innocent and accepting, Mary is cynical and closed-off. She's also extremely intelligent and very into science. Like another monster we all know and love...

Her vampire name was tricky. Basically everything I could think of along the "Vamp-" lines was already taken. It also needed to be slightly silly, to fit in with "Ginormica."

I am sure everyone reading this spotted the "Beauty and the Beast" quote about cascades of books...

I have demolished a few silly myths about vampires. Many of which are relatively recent additions anyway. Mary is not connected or influenced in any way whatsoever by Twilight, which I have never seen and have no interest in (I'm not hugely interested in vampires qua vampires, but I wanted a powerful, fearsome, attractive, and long-lived monster for story purposes). The "child vampire" is well established in fiction of course, but it plays into my themes of "power and weakness" with her apparent age and her real age being very much at odds. "Thrall" is the term used in the Elder Scrolls video games, so I used that here too. The medical stuff about blood types is as accurate as I could get. Arterial blood is oxygenated blood from the heart, and venous the used stuff returning to the heart.

And of course comments, criticisms, and reviews always accepted gratefully. I appreciate them all, even those from people I cannot reply directly to.

Ch. 15 will be a few days, as it is a very tricky one to get the right balance for.

(Posted 27 March 2013)


	15. The Green-Eyed Monster

**15. The Green-Eyed Monster**

Mary was sitting at Cockroach's desk reading through his notes when she was interrupted by a sudden loud noise. The huge main door lifted open, and she sighed as she realised her peaceful research time was over.

"You were insane!" Susan laughed as the monsters entered the common room for lunch.

"Hey, don't knock it, it worked!" Link said with a huge grin.

"What worked?" Cockroach asked, joining them from his own studies on tactics.

"You are not going to believe this," Susan said. "It was Link's crazy idea. We turned him into a slingshot—Bob was the elastic, he wrapped himself around my fingers, and Link was the ammo."

"You gotta try it, Doc!" Link enthused. "Awesome! Landings can be a little rough, mind."

Cockroach shuddered. "Perhaps another time. Ah, my dear Lady Mary, I hope you had a pleasant morning."

"Most enjoyable, Doctor," Mary said with a slight smile. "I was going over some of your notes on her—" she waved a hand at Susan "—and found some interesting ideas. You have quite an insightful mind."

"Most gracious of you to say so, my dear," he said. "Did you notice the figures on page 37? Here, let me show you what I meant by them."

Cockroach scuttled over to Mary, and the two of them were soon lost in abstruse biological discussions.

Susan snorted. She hadn't appreciate being referred to dismissively as "her," and was a little miffed that Doc hadn't said anything about it. Still, she was in too good a mood to let it get her down for long.

A note sounded through the room. The others looked up eagerly.

"Lunch time," Susan called out to Mary, who had not noticed the chime.

"About time too," Mary said. "I was starting to wonder if I'd have to feed myself," she added, looking up at Susan's slim neck.

"I'd prefer you didn't," Susan said with a laugh. "Come on. Let's eat. Or drink, in your case."

"Stop being so bloody cheerful," Mary growled. "How do you manage it?"

"I'm with friends, I'm happy with my life, I'm a hero; why shouldn't I be cheerful? And I finally have a another girl to talk with."

"And why exactly would you want a female to talk to in particular? Don't expect me to take any interest at all in the mindless inanities of feminine chatter," Mary remarked scathingly. "I had enough of that as a child. Every evening after dinner we'd have to leave the table just as the talk started getting interesting and repair to the drawing room. Gossip, innuendo, and backbiting."

"Uh, I don't think I gossip that much," Susan said as she took her seat.

"So what precisely do you need to talk about that is dependent on me being a girl?" Mary asked.

"I dunno. You know, we could… talk about… you know, the usual girl stuff."

"What? Fancy clothes? Make-up? I no longer have any interest in trying to make myself look more attractive to men. So why should I bother with those?"

"Well, no, it's also about looking good to feel better about yourself," Susan replied, getting a little confused by why Mary seemed so hostile.

"It would take a layer of makeup a mile thick to make me feel better about myself," Mary retorted sullenly.

"You don't feel good about yourself?" Susan asked.

Mary stared at her. "This conversation is now over. I will thank you not to pry into my personal issues in the future."

"Oh, sorry," Susan said. "I didn't mean to hurt you or anything."

"No, and that makes it all the more infuriating," Mary told her. "Eat your… whatever _that_ huge mound is."

"Lasagne, apparently," Susan said with a sigh. She almost felt like she was about to cry. Why was Mary being so mean? Every time she tried to be nice to the new monster, she got rebuffed. She watched as Mary took her thermos of blood, and poured out a goblet of warm red liquid. Susan shuddered at the sight.

"Must be dreadfully dull, having the same thing day in, day out, morning, noon and night," she commented pointedly.

"Food is fuel," Mary replied acerbically. "I have more important things to do with my mind these days than worrying about fancy food, nice clothes, makeup, or trying to make myself look good to the opposite sex. However I am sure few of those can apply to you any more, either. If indeed they ever did."

"No… no, they don't," Susan admitted, feeling as if she had somehow been insulted. She looked down at her standard dark grey jumpsuit uniform, and sighed. "I suppose it is a bit same-y…"

"Don't worry about it, my dear. Einstein was famous for buying ten identical outfits at a time," Cockroach noted. "Saved him the trouble of deciding what to wear."

"I don't wear anything," Link noted. "Saves me even more time."

"Yes, I noticed your lack of dress," Mary noted. "I am just thankful that your lower anatomy is non-human enough to spare us the full effect. Your upper anatomy is bad enough."

"Hey, what's wrong with my upper anatomy?" Link asked, glancing down at his powerful pectorals.

"Too hairy," Mary told him, and Bob laughed.

"What about my upper anatomy?" the blue blob asked.

"You don't have any. Any anatomy at all that is, save for your eye. How'd that get there?"

Bob formed a hand and jerked his thumb towards Cockroach. "I couldn't see if I was coming or going, so Doc gave it to me so I could see where I was going. Or coming. No, going. I think."

"Before that he was a blind mass of goop, using thought-perception to locate prey," Cockroach explained. "I carried out a few experiments, and found an ostrich egg was ideal."

Susan looked at Bob's eye, and blanched slightly. "Ooh, that's…"

"Amazing," Mary said. "What did you use to replicate the cones and rods? What's the cornea made of? How are the visual signals processed without an occipital lobe?"

"To be honest, it's not a real eye in that sense," Cockroach admitted. "It's just a lens. The visual signals are interpreted directly by Bob's cytoplasm, with the cytoplasmic matrix acting to directly process the electromagnetic impulses into whatever passes for thought within him."

"Fascinating…" Mary breathed.

"Here," Bob said, popping his eye out and handing it to her.

"Ew!" Susan squealed. "That's gross!"

Mary ignored her, and gently examined the large white sphere. She held it up to her face.

"I can see you!" Bob called out, and Mary nearly dropped the eye in shock.

"How? There's no connection?"

"Apparently, each part of Bob's body can communicate telepathically, somehow, with each other part," Cockroach explained. "Since the eyeball is covered in his, er, substance, it can communicate."

"So I could chop you up into little bits and you could still function?" Mary asked eagerly.

In response, Bob separated his body into a dozen small balls.

"Truly fascinating," she breathed. "Don't you think so, Ginormica?"

"I wish you'd call me Susan," Susan said with a faint trace of annoyance. "Yeah, it's pretty amazing."

"It would be even more amazing if you knew anything at all about biology or physics," Mary noted.

Susan's eyes narrowed. Everything Mary said seemed calculated to hurt, but just subtly enough so that no one else noticed. "Excuse me, I'm going to check the news," she said coldly. "I think that interview I did with CNN the other day should be out by now." She stood up and left, steaming gently.

* * *

"Hey, you catch last night's cartoon movie on TV?" Susan asked with a grin as she sat down to breakfast the next morning. "It was amazing!"

"Nah, I missed it, sorry," Link told her. "_Ginormica, Defender of Earth_!—well done for some."

"Oh, come on, you were in it," Susan reminded him.

"Yeah, as a sidekick," the fish-ape shot back.

"Ah, pooh, little Linky's jealous," Susan teased. "Come on, at least you weren't the comic relief."

"That was me!" Bob cried happily. "I was so funny!"

"You were that," Susan agreed. "You know, for some reason, I think the media coverage this time around is so much better, even over here. Maybe as the world has had a little longer to get used to the ideas of monsters, and can handle me saving a city without getting freaked out by what I am."

"I helped too," Bob pointed out. "I created the bomb."

"That was Doc, Bob," Susan said with a laugh. "Yeah, sorry—us saving a city. One for all, all for one, right guys?"

"Whatever you say, Defender of Earth," Link said sullenly, pushing his half-empty plate away. "I'm off for an extra hour's martial arts training this morning. See you guys later."

"Extra training?" Bob asked. "Woah!"

"Kung fu, Jackie Chan-style. I'm training to be faster, more lethal! _Hiii-ya_!" Link cried, demonstrating a complicated move that would have landed him in Susan's breakfast if the giantess hadn't quickly moved it.

"Do you have to do that while we are eating?" Mary asked him peevishly. "Why am I incarcerated with a bunch of degenerate slobs?"

"You get out of the wrong side of the coffin this morning?" Susan joked.

"Only because the idiot who runs this place thinks vampires need coffins, and won't give me a proper bed," Mary retorted.

"Hey, don't be rude about the General," Susan told her. "He's a great guy."

"You didn't think so when you first arrived, my dear," Cockroach reminded her as he came down from his lab. "So you should allow Lady Mary a little leeway, I think. And my lady, you have Susan to thank for these comfortable quarters we now enjoy. You wouldn't like living in the old ones."

"Comfortable? A far cry from the castle I grew up in. But perhaps compared to a prison, if you say so, doctor," Mary allowed. "Though I would prefer something smaller, more intimate."

"Well, that's not going to happen as long as I'm a giant," Susan pointed out. "And I have no intention of returning to my small, limited life."

"Size is not a limiting factor," Mary said. "I'm not even five feet tall, and have never let that stop me."

"Really? I hadn't noticed you were so short. But then to me, you and Link both seem pretty small and dainty."

Link shot her a peeved look, and Mary stared up at Susan's huge head. "Yes, I'm sure an elephant would seem elegant next to you," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Elegant elephant!" Bob giggled, and Susan squashed him flat to shut him up, wishing briefly she could do the same to Mary.

"Susan, my dear," Cockroach said after slurping up an old shoelace like spaghetti. "I thought today, after our training, you and I might give our new friend a proper tour of the place. And I think you two will find you have a lot in common, you know."

Susan and Mary glanced at each other.

"If you say so, Doc," Susan said slowly, pretty sure the only thing she had in common with the new monster was gender.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Mary told her. "It might actually be easier without her, Cockroach," she added. "Having her with us would greatly limit the areas we can access. And I wouldn't want her to step on me with those ungainly boats she calls shoes."

"Don't tempt me," Susan snarled, feeling very tempted anyway. "Anyway, I can't help it if I can't get new shoes."

"Good news, Ginormica! You're getting new shoes!" came Monger's voice as he flew into the common room.

"What?" Susan gasped.

"You heard me! Bring it in, boys!" he ordered into his walkie-talkie.

Two men entered the room in a small electric truck that was carrying a huge box.

"What's that?" Susan asked.

"Your new shoes, courtesy of our Italian friends," the general told her with a grin. "Take a look. See if they fit."

Susan stood up and walked over to the truck. She bent down, and opened the lid of the box.

"Oh my God!" She stood up, holding a pair of black pumps. "Prada! I can't believe it!"

"They're a present from the Roman government," Monger explained. "The heels are made from a tungsten carbide alloy to support your, ah, weight. It makes them very heavy, with each shoe being about eighty pounds, but that isn't an issue for you."

"Oh, this is fantastic!" Susan exclaimed. "I've always wanted a pair of Prada pumps!"

"Well, that'll make 'em happy over in Eye-taly," Monger commented. "I need to head out. Remember, training starts at oh-nine-hundred hours. Try not to be late yet again."

"I'll try, sir," Susan said with a huge grin, saluting him.

"Oh wow, I can't believe it!" she exclaimed once he and the truck had left. She kicked off her flat-soled government-issued sneakers and slipped her new shoes on. "How do I look?" she asked the others, spinning in a circle, then stumbling. "Whoops! It's been so long since I wore heels I'd almost forgotten how to walk in them!"

"Assuming you ever _could_ walk properly," Mary commented.

"What do you mean?" Susan asked, wondering if she was being insulted.

"Like a refined, elegant lady, rather than a drunken milkmaid," Mary responded, standing up and demonstrating by doing an elegant pirouette.

Susan narrowed her eyes. She _was_ being insulted. That little vampire was really starting to get on her nerves.

"You dance, my dear?" Cockroach asked, his antennae quivering.

"I was raised the daughter of an earl," Mary said gently. "Of course I dance. Divinely, I might add."

"In that case, my dear lady…" Cockroach started, standing up and bowing low to her, "might I have the honour of this dance?"

"Why certainly, my dear Doctor," Mary said, giving him a gracious smile and taking his hand. Cockroach used his other to quickly access a waltz on his tablet, and as the music started, he and Mary began to dance around the dining table.

Susan slumped down on her sofa and watched them dance together, her lips thin. This was one thing she could never do with him, or anyone else for that matter. It wasn't fair, she thought. It should be her up there, waltzing with him. And nobody was paying any attention to her nice new shoes. Susan took them off, and resisted the temptation to throw one at Mary. Instead she headed for her room, where she placed them carefully on a shelf by her bed so she could admire them, and dropped down on her bed, fuming quietly.

Lady Mary watched her leave, and smiled slightly.

* * *

The morning's training passed uneventfully. Susan and Link were given martial arts lessons, so she didn't get a chance to talk with Cockroach.

"You were pretty into it today, you know," she told him with a smile as they headed back to the common room.

"Yeah? Yeah, I guess I was," he agreed proudly.

"Yup, I thought it was rather cute."

"Cute?" Link asked, looking up at her. "Whaddaya mean, _cute_?"

"Oh, you know," Susan grinned. "Just your whole 'I'm not a sidekick' posturing. I think it's cute how you get all extra-aggro and macho when you're feeling out-monstered. By a girl. Again. It was that movie, wasn't it?"

"I am not feeling out-monstered by anyone," Link retorted. "And I didn't see your stupid cartoon anyway! No idea what you're talking about."

"Okay, okay," Susan said, shrugging. "I'll believe you. Thousands wouldn't."

"It's the truth," he said. "So there."

Susan laughed. "Yeah, you're cute when you're acting macho."

"Don't call me cute! I'm a monster! The Terror of Coco Beach! Scourge of the South Seas!"

"Scourge of the dinner table too," Susan laughed. "Only joking!" she quickly added.

"Yeah, you're hilarious. Look, I'll catch you later, okay?"

"Cool. See ya," Susan called as Link hurried away. She smiled. He really was cute when his ego was bruised.

* * *

After lunch, Cockroach called over to Mary. "I was wondering if you had a moment. I wanted to discuss some of the lab test results I've downloaded from the facility computer. There are some interesting anomalies in your stem cell division that I was wondering if you could offer any insight into."

"If you wish, Doctor," Mary said as he scuttled over. "But could we do this in your room, or mine? It's just a little noisy out here at times. Vampires have rather sensitive hearing, and this room echoes. Especially when the giant walks anywhere."

"Hey, are you sayin' we're loud?" Link asked loudly.

Mary turned her cold blue eyes on the fish-ape, arching a delicate eyebrow, but didn't deign to reply.

"Come, Doctor," she said, rising.

"What a snob," Link breathed after she left. "Little Miss High an' Mighty thinks she's too good for the likes of us!"

"I agree," Susan said, making a face. "I'm getting a little sick of her attitude. What is her problem?"

"Seems she prefers monsters from her own country," Bob noted. "Maybe you should try and cheer her up?"

"How?" Susan asked in exasperation. "She treats us all like… what was that word she used?"

"Trolls?" Bob suggested.

"Thralls, I thought," Link said.

"Yeah, it was thralls," Susan noted. "But frankly Bob is right: she treats us like trolls. And there's no room in here for someone like that."

"But what can we do about it?" Link asked.

"Ask Doc. Doc's the only one she cares about," Bob pointed out.

"Yeah, he is," Susan said. "And she seems to be the only one he cares about these days too," she added to herself.

* * *

"Hey Linkster, up for a swim?" Susan asked that afternoon. "Doc's off somewhere talking science again with that Vampiretta female, and I'm bored."

Link looked up from his magazine. "Yeah, sorry, not right now," he said. "I'm not really feeling up to it. I think I strained something while training. You go without me."

"Oh pooh, it's no fun on my own," Susan said. "Hey, Bob? You ever been swimming?"

"Can I swim?" the blue blob asked.

"Let's find out!" Susan cried. "Come on!"

"Hey Bob, we were gonna play a round of cards, remember?"

"Oh, we were? Oh, we were. Sorry Susan," Bob apologised.

"Forget it," Susan said. She was a little bit miffed. Link normally never refused a chance for a swim in a real lake. Was he still miffed at the way she had gently teased him after the training? Surely he knew she was just joking with him? Was his ego that fragile these days? Susan sighed. Maybe Insecto would be willing to play with her. She headed into the big moth's enclosure, and found her dozing. Sighing again, Susan scrambled up the sleeping insect's side, and decided to have a nap herself, nestled in Insecto's long, soft fur. She could always find comfort there.

But not this time. She was starting to feel as if she were the odd one out, the fifth wheel. When she was the strongest of them all, the hero who had saved them, what was it—three times now? Why weren't they more grateful? It was very frustrating, she thought. Link and Bob together, and now Cockroach and Mary. Mary, Mary, quite contrary…. It was almost as if the new monster were trying to drive her away, force some distance between her and her friends. Because there was definitely a distance. Link especially—Susan was sure that the "out-monstered by a girl" thing couldn't be the only thing keeping him cool towards her. There must be something else, and Mary was the obvious choice. What was she saying about Susan behind her back? The giantess threw herself down on her bed of fur, propping her chin up on her hands, and made a face. She was being nothing but nice to the new monster, so why was Mary so mean to her?

She lay on her side on Insecto's fur, and gazed out through the vegetation into the main common room, watching the others go about their business. They were all so small, she thought. Like dolls playing together. Little, fragile dolls. In their own little, fragile world...

* * *

"Where's Susan?" Cockroach asked, emerging from his room with Mary beside him.

"Off with Insecto," Link told him, putting down a six of clubs. "Don't bug her, okay?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," Cockroach assured him.

"Go fish! What did you want to bug her for?" Bob asked.

"I didn't, I just didn't see her around and wondered where she was," Cockroach said. "I haven't had much of a chance to speak with her lately. She seems to be spending more and more time in her room, or wandering around the base on her own."

"We're playing poker, not Go Fish, Bob," Link said with an exasperated sigh. "And you don't need to worry about Ginormica," he added to Cockroach. "She can take care of herself. You shouldn't treat her like a little baby."

"I don't, I assure you," Cockroach told him. "I just want to look out for her."

"She clearly doesn't need it," Mary noted. "She seems very sure of herself. Almost stuck up, in fact."

"Nonsense, my dear," Cockroach assured her. "She's just, er, confident in her new powers. She's as sweet as ever."

"Nope, I gotta agree with Missy Earl-girl here," Link said, ignoring Mary's sudden glare. "Stuck up just about covers it. Not as much as you, Missy, but she ain't so sweet these days. I'm getting a little sick of her sidekick comments and jokes about me being 'out-monstered'…."

Cockroach tilted his head. "Well, maybe she is acting a little differently," he admitted. "Perhaps I should talk to her after all. See what's on her mind."

"But not right now," Mary said. "We were talking about your ideas on genetic recombination therapy. Now where's that book you said you had?"

"Oh, yes, that's right. This way, my dear. I think you'll find this fascinating…."

* * *

From Insecto's room, Susan watched through the glass as Cockroach and the vampire headed to his lab. She bit her lower lip, and sighed. Why was this affecting her so much? Was it really just a feeling of being isolated, due to her superior size and strength? Or was there something more to it? No, of course there wasn't, she told herself. Doc was a great friend, the best, but that was all. Or was it? She kept finding herself back on the Palatine Hill in Rome with him that afternoon, when the sun was warm on them, the air was scented with flowers, and he had shown her for the first time just how romantic he could be inside that logical, rational scientist brain of his. For a brief moment then, Susan had felt she was with a lover, not a friend. The same thing had happened when they had gone swimming together, and she had been casually bare-breasted in front of him. His reactions had been both sweetly romantic, and a pleasant reminder that she was still physically attractive to some despite her frightening size and off-puttingly magnified skin flaws. And he was pretty impressive too, under that shapeless lab coat. She had found herself almost trying to seduce him, which was definitely something she didn't want to do to him. Or to her. No, she did not want another relationship, and certainly not barely a month after getting dumped. It was just that… just…. Susan couldn't quite put her finger on it. Something was wrong with her life. With her. Especially since the new girl had come.

She rolled over onto her back and sighed. "Oh, who are you kidding, Susie Q?" she asked herself. "You're jealous. Plain old jealous. Maybe you don't want him as a lover, but you're still jealous of Mary, even as his friend. And maybe… maybe there's something more there as well," she finished in a whisper. "Try as you might to resist it, ignore it, deny it, Susan… these feelings aren't going to go away. Dammit. I thought my heart had learned its lesson… My head is screaming _get a grip, girl_…"

Susan slumped down and buried her face in the insect's soft fur, dying to cry her heart out.

* * *

The chime rang for dinner. Susan reluctantly succumbed to the rumblings in her stomach, and slid off Insecto. She patted the massive moth, who roared a farewell, and headed back to the common room. She was not impressed to see the new monster and Cockroach were still discussing things together. Susan greeted the others dully, pretending to be more tired than she was, and sat down. The giantess watched Cockroach and Mary talking excitedly as they headed down the steps from his lab, and for a moment found herself wishing she were able to climb those steps, to fully interact with their world, be truly a part of the team rather than always on the outside, looking in. Or looking down, rather, she corrected herself, sighing.

"It's so nice to have someone English to talk to again," Cockroach was saying. "I've been over here so long, living among these Americans, that I'd almost forgotten what it was like to talk with someone who won't automatically giggle at being offered spotted dick, who knows that fireworks are properly set off on Guy Fawkes' Day and not some time in July, and can pronounce Marylebone Station and Belvoir Castle."

Mary laughed lightly. "And I, for one, am glad to have found an intelligent and cultured companion among all these uncouth Yanks."

"Well, they're not all that bad," Cockroach admitted, looking around a little nervously. Link and Susan were both staring at them.

"No, indeed, present company very much excepted, of course," Mary said smoothly, giving them a slight curtsey.

"You got a bit of a smart mouth on you, lady," Link growled.

"I do apologise if anything I have said has offended you, o brave and noble creature."

"Yeah, brave and noble, that's me," he muttered sullenly. "A real hero. Almost as much as Susan."

"The transition is never easy on any of us," Cockroach reminded him. "You know that."

"Oh, I guess I can cut you some slack," Link allowed. "So long as I can hassle you back."

"You are welcome to try," Mary said with an elegantly raised eyebrow that suggested deep scepticism at his chances.

"I wouldn't bother," Susan said. "I doubt anything you say would rattle Bloody Mary."

"Let me guess—my name is Mary, and I'm a vampire, so drink blood, so I'm Bloody Mary. Quite the wit for a giant, aren't you?" Mary said nastily. "Of course Bloody Mary was Mary Tudor, daughter of Henry VIII, and my name is Mary Stewart, so you should be calling me Queen of Scots instead. Not that I would expect you to be able to tell the difference."

Susan flushed scarlet.

"I think my cousin was Bloody Mary," Bob interrupted quickly. "No, wait, she got made into a Bloody Mary."

"Close enough," Link grinned. "Best way to go, for a tomato."

Mary laughed, as did the others. Only Susan remained quiet, pouting.

The hatch hissed open, and the large platform holding their food slid out.

"Din-dins!" Bob called out. "Oh, you think it's ham?"

"Impossible," Mary told him firmly. "Not today."

"How'd you know?" Bob asked.

"The rule is, ham tomorrow and ham yesterday—but never ham today."

A strange sound made Susan look up from her food. It was Cockroach laughing. Not his normal maniacal cackle of joy, nor his more restrained chortle of appreciation. No, this was a full-on, open laugh. Susan's eyes narrowed. She had never made him laugh like that. Though truth be told, these days she wasn't feeling very funny. Instead she ate her bland meal without saying a word as she listened to Cockroach and Mary talk about biology, and Link and Bob going away at a million miles an hour about baseball. Neither of which remotely interested her. She felt so isolated she was almost tempted to take her meal to her room and eat alone. She was feeling increasingly annoyed at the others. Link was still acting petty, and even Cockroach didn't seem to have as much time for her as he used to. And that hurt more than anything.

After that wonderful day in Rome, then that lovely, intimate swim, she had realised that her feelings towards the genius half-man half-insect were starting to develop into something rather stronger. And then _she_ had come. The pale English rose, small and delicate, but with thorns tipped in blood. Susan's blood. Because every time she tried to get close to the vampire, she got hurt. And she was still getting hurt by her, every time Mary and Cockroach were off together talking about science or history or literature or any one of the many topics on which Susan knew she could not converse anywhere near their level. Susan had tried to join them once or twice, but had swiftly been made to feel like a dunce. Now she was more likely to turn down Cockroach's invitations to join them. She had been tempted once or twice to ask him if he'd want to go swimming again, but it didn't seem right, somehow. That marvellous intimacy they'd created in Rome seemed frayed, unravelling. She thought back to how she would just sit and watch him create some fantastical gadget, marvelling at his inventive genius while he would do his best to explain how it worked. But now whenever he started tinkering it always seemed as if Mary was there with him. Damned Mary. Bloody Mary….

She was fiddling with her cup absent-mindedly, and suddenly realised she had squashed it quite flat. She looked down at the mangled piece of metal, and remembered the chair she had trodden on when she first arrived. Mary was right. She was a giant, a freakishly large and strong being. Mary was so small and beautiful and elegant it made her feel even more like a monster, a great ungainly ugly lump. She stared at her huge, five-foot long hands. Hands that could crush a car. Hands that could punch through metal doors. Hands that could never hold another's again….

.

* * *

**NOTES FROM ME**: Not a lot to explain about this chapter really, at least in terms of research (if I have to explain the themes, then I've failed in the writing: if that's the case, please do let me know).

The slingshot thing is from an early illustration of the monsters fighting that can be found in the MvA Art book, and online fairly easily.  
I have no idea how Bob's eye would work, and even less idea why he has one, so made Doc give him one. We have seen his ability to separate himself out before, so I assumed that so long as some of his goo (his "cytoplasmic matrix," which is a real thing inside cells, but mainly used as it sounds cool) is around the eye, the link remains.

I rather like the idea of Monger making Mary sleep in a coffin...

Tungsten carbide is one of the strongest metals known, so should easily support Susan's nearly twelve ton weight. It's very heavy, however, which limits its use: the weight I quoted here is based on a very rough calculation of the approximate volume of each heel. Very rough, since a heel is not a simple cylinder.

Yeah, I pinched lyrics from yet another Disney song (Meg is one of my favourite Disney characters)...

"Marylebone" is sort of like "Marlibone" and "Belvoir" is "Beaver."

I hope everyone got the "ham today" joke; if you didn't, or have somehow forgotten the reference, it's based on one in Alice Through the Looking-Glass.

This wasn't an easy chapter to write, as there is no overarching event in it, but just a series of scenes that show how Susan is reacting and changing. So getting the beats to work, and the balance right, was not easy.

(posted 30 March 2013)


	16. A Bug's Lie

**16. A Bug's Lie**

The following day there was no training, but Susan spent most of it in her room rather than have to watch Cockroach and Mary together. Even if they weren't doing anything more intimate than discussing science, history, or literature, it was still hard to watch. And when Cockroach had suggested she join them, Susan had reacted with annoyance. She regretted that now, but didn't want to go back and beg. So the day passed dully, and then at the usual time the dinner chime rang out. She slumped down in her usual seat, and at the usual time the hatch opened and the usual tray came sliding out. Susan sighed, and took her meal. The usual mound of shapeless mush.

"Oh, not spaghetti again!" she said loudly. "Every Friday, it's always damned spaghetti! Every Monday, stew; every Tuesday, risotto; every Wednesday, macaroni and cheese! All the damn time!"

"Susan!" Cockroach gasped, stunned at the giantess's sudden outburst. "Whatever is the matter?"

Susan slumped down, pushing her plate away. "I'm sick of the mindless routine," she admitted. "I'm sick of getting up every morning at seven, sick of coming out here and having mushy oatmeal with you all, sick of the whole goddamned thing. Just once, I'd like to sleep in, have breakfast in bed, eggs and bacon and pancakes or something different for a change. Always the same meals, always the same times, always the same people. Everything's the same! I'm stuck here, wasting my life! Ha! What life? I have no life!"

"I thought you chose this life, and rejected your old one as being small and limited," Cockroach reminded her.

"Small and limited?" Susan asked with a sharp laugh. "Small and limited? Stuck here in this remote secret base in the desert miles from nowhere, too big to leave it without a major production, to say nothing of just doing normal, everyday things? And when I have what seems like every hour of my life regulated by the fucking army? My life here is the one that's small and limited! I'd have more freedom back home, back at my real size!"

She stood up and stormed off to her room. Cockroach and the others looked after her, stunned.

"Hey, you wanna go check on her?" Bob asked.

"No, no point," Link noted. "She's been weird for days."

"So she's not always like this?" Mary asked, sipping at her blood.

"No, not normally," Cockroach admitted. "She's normally the sweetest, kindest girl you could ever hope to meet," he added wistfully. Mary gave him a curious look, but remained silent.

"Well, one of these days someone is going to have to snap her out of it," Link said. "Not me, though."

"Why not you?" Cockroach asked, a little surprised.

"I ain't a smooth talker like you," Link told him. "You know that. And besides…" He sighed. "Susan's acting funny these days. I dunno. I think it was after we got back from Rome. There were all those new interviews, and all the news programs kept going on about her being a hero—you'd think no one else was in the Monster Force. Just this tall beautiful giantess who got injured trying to save a hospital and stopped an alien robot, yadda yadda."

"Well, it's better than some of the new reports after the Modesto Incident," Cockroach responded. "They were attacking her then, if you remember."

"Of course I remember," Link snarled. "But she was always sure to mention us when she was interviewed, if _you_ remember. Now she doesn't bother much."

"And she doesn't mention you at all," Mary noted.

"Yeah, I get sidelined again," Link groused. "Typical."

"She's just enjoying being treated like a hero," Cockroach noted. "She's been through a lot."

"And we haven't?" Mary shot back. "It was no picnic being a vampire in Victorian London, I can tell you. No thanks to the fantasies of that idiot Bram Stoker, either. You know, Jack the Ripper was actually a vampire hunter trying to kill me."

"We've all been through a lot," Cockroach admitted. "But Susan is so vulnerable and sensitive—" Cockroach diplomatically ignored the sudden snort of derision from Mary "—and has still only been a monster for a relatively short time. Think back to when you were first, uh, given your new life. How did you take it?"

"Badly," Mary admitted.

"Were you mean to your friends too?" Bob asked.

Mary sighed. "I never had any friends. It wasn't easy, you understand. Can't exactly go and have dinner together. _Ah, good evening Lady Mary. What can I get you tonight? Would you fancy the duck a la orange? Or perhaps you would prefer to exsanguinate one of the footmen?_ Yes, that would be certainly go over well." Her eyes lost focus, gazing out into the distance. "There was someone, once… Someone I truly cared for. For a while I thought…" She shook her head. "Enough about the past. Time to focus on the present. Let your precious giantess know she is becoming rather unpleasantly smug."

"Like you were when you arrived?" Link shot back.

Mary arched an eyebrow and glared at him. "I was never smug," she informed him. "I was no more pleased to be here than any of you were when you arrived."

"I didn't mind," Bob pointed out.

"Naturally, being mindless," Mary noted scathingly.

"You may or may not be smug," Link pointed out, "but you are sarcastic and arrogant."

"And you are crude and sophomoric," Mary responded. "I survive it. So shall you."

"But you are right," Cockroach noted thoughtfully. "Susan isn't really her usual self these days. She is more distant. More… dismissive, almost."

"Paranoid, I'd say," Mary stated. "Over-sensitive and egotistical. She seems to be taking everything I say about her and twisting it to be an insult."

"Isn't it?" Link asked.

Mary fixed him with her pale eyes. "Not _everything_," she said with a slight smile.

"Maybe she wants to be normal again," Bob suggested.

Cockroach shook his head. "No, she accepted being a monster when we defeated Gallaxhar. As Ginormica, she's a hero. And she's said many times she doesn't want to return to her small and limited life."

"It's perfectly simple. She's a hero, she knows it, the whole world tells her so—it's ego, pure and simple," Mary noted.

"Yeah, she's cocky," Link added. "Especially towards me…"

"Hmm. You may have a point," Cockroach mused. "For the first time in her life, everyone is praising her unreservedly, building her up. She can't handle this. She's becoming arrogant, which is what happens when justified pride—and she does have many reasons to be proud—tilts over into cruelty and malice."

"What's the difference?" Bob asked.

"Pride is feeling you can do something better than others," Cockroach explained. "Arrogance is feeling you are better than others. Susan can do many things very well. But she has fallen into the trap of thinking that because she can do these things, she is a superior person. It's a very common problem."

"So how do we snap her out of it?" Link asked. "I'm in no mood to baby her and indulge her any more. Sod her."

Cockroach sighed, and looked over at the green-scaled ape.

"What? What are you looking at me like that for?" Link snarled. "Susan's being the bitch. She should be bigger than that. After all, she's bigger than me. But she's acting like a little baby."

"You're both acting like children, frankly. Yes, she's bigger and stronger than you. There's always going to be someone better than you, at anything."

"So are there any biophysicists better than you?" Link shot back.

"Certainly," Cockroach replied calmly. "Paolo Manzelli, for example: he could run rings around me blindfolded. There's also Les Loew, and several others I could name off the top of my head."

"Yeah, well, it's not just her being bigger and stronger. It's not even mainly that. It's the way she's been acting lately. It's like she takes every opportunity to belittle me. It's going beyond the usual jokey barbs between friends."

"I'm afraid you're right," Cockroach noted. "I hadn't really noticed."

"Because I was spending too much time with the new monster," Bob said. "I was selfish."

Cockroach looked over at him, and sighed. "No, Bob, I'm afraid that was me. And you're right: I should have realised it would affect Susan. It never occurred to me that she might resent Mary for my monopolizing of her."

She is also jealous of Miss Mary Lady," Bob added. "Like the way my blancmange was jealous of my custard pudding."

"You think she's actually jealous of Mary? Whatever for?" Cockroach asked, while Mary looked at Bob like he was mad. "She doesn't want to be a vampire, does she? I thought she was happy being a giant…"

"Doc, sometimes you can be really obtuse," Link retorted, and headed off to his tank for some underwater weightlifting.

"She should calm down in a few days," Cockroach suggested to Mary, not very hopefully. "Maybe I should have a talk with her."

"Leave it until tomorrow, Doctor," Mary advised. "She needs time to sulk. Comforting her now will only vindicate her temper tantrum. She's doing it to attract attention. You're right: she's a child, and needs to be treated like one."

"Perhaps you're right," Cockroach agreed. In truth, he was not entirely sure what he could say to her. There were times he no longer trusted himself to be alone with her, for fear of what he might blurt out. He had thought about their swim together many times, and often, as he was reading an article, or trying to assemble an experiment, a vision of her near-naked body would float in front of his eyes. And what might have happened if he hadn't been such a gentleman. Or at least aspired to be a gentleman, he added to himself. But he knew he could never ask anything of her other than loving friendship. He could never encourage her to say or do something she would regret.

* * *

Susan woke up, and decided to breakfast on snacks in her fridge rather than face the other monsters. She felt a little guilty about her outburst, but also still rather upset with them all. With Link, for being so petty and jealous. It wasn't her fault she was bigger and stronger. He shouldn't be so damned concerned about his ego, Susan thought angrily. And the Doc—why wasn't he defending her? She hardly saw him these days, as he was spending so much time with that prissy little Brit bitch. To say nothing of the prissy Brit bitch herself. Susan slammed the door of her fridge shut and proceeded to eat an entire caramel almond Ginormibar, tossing the rubbish into the corner. Someone would clean it up later: the Monster Force personnel were kind of like servants, she decided. Discrete, efficient servants. She never had to wash her clothes, vacuum her room, or anything.

"Well, I have saved the world, after all," she told herself. "I deserve a few perks."

After she finished eating, she headed out. She was about to enter the common room, but hesitated. She really wasn't in a sociable mood. She wanted to be alone. But sitting in her room all day wasn't appealing either. So she wandered out along the passage to the old common room, and looked around, remembering her first day in the facility, when she had been pushed out of her cell into this bare grey chamber. It was twice the size of the new one, and looked bigger still since it was so empty. Even now the room still seemed sinister to her. She caught a glimpse of her old cell, the door open, and realised that the "Hang In There" kitten poster was still on the wall. She turned away—that room held some unpleasant memories. Memories that for some reason seemed more unpleasant today. Perhaps it was just the mood she was, Susan decided. What with Link being childish and stubborn, and Cockroach spending so much time with the new girl, it was bringing back some uncomfortable sensations of isolation and loneliness, much like she had experienced in that cold, bare cell.

Susan quickly headed out of the old common room, following the same tall vaulted passageway she had been taken along when she first arrived. Like then, there were a number of people milling around, but now, rather than staring, they saluted her respectfully. Susan returned some of the salutes, and smiled at them. They, at least, appreciated Ginormica.

She decided to spend the morning exploring the base, and this time head down, for once. Many of the passageways were far too small for her, of course, but she appeared to have been given free reign of the base otherwise. It wouldn't be a security risk—even assuming she didn't have clearance—since anything they wanted to hide, they could just put in a room behind a normal door. It was easy to stop her—just make something normal-sized, and she couldn't use it properly, she realised with a slight pang of loss.

Susan wandered along one long vaulted passageway, which lead to a giant cavern. Much of the base had been formed from a series of large natural caverns in the Great Basin area of central Nevada, or so Cockroach had told her. She made her way along an elevated access road, and found herself in a large hall, with a huge window overlooking another cavern. She looked out into the gloom, seeing pricks of light from the various offices and facilities that clung to the walls like wasps' nests. None of which she could ever visit. Strange shapes rose out of the darkness; Susan had no idea what they were, but they looked vaguely sinister and alien.

She wondered where the aliens that Cockroach had talked about were housed, but not only was there not the slightest clue, she knew that it was very unlikely that she would be able to fit in there. No, she thought to herself with a sigh, she had to stick to the monster containment section. It was still a bit of a prison, she realised. Even officially naming their common room the Monster Command Center didn't really change the fact that her world here was, when it came down to it, actually rather limited. To say nothing of her inability to leave on her own, or go shopping, or to restaurants, or anything like that. She was utterly dependent on other people, Susan realised with a slight shock. No wonder the government had designated her as handicapped...

After about an hour of wandering at random, through great empty halls designed to house hundreds of giant monsters that never came, Susan found herself in a part of the base she had never been to before. It was dimly lit, and there were no people around. She found it rather spooky, and was on the verge of turning back when she came across another tall door. It was marked L-9, above her official clearance level, but she ignored that and entered. To her surprise, she found herself back in their old common room.

"How did I get back here?" she asked the empty room. It was true the base was not laid out remotely logically, and she had not been paying attention to where she was going, but she could have sworn she was nowhere near their old quarters. There was something wrong, however. The old common room had always been brilliantly lit, and this one was much gloomier. The air also smelled rather musty. Susan realised it wasn't their old common room after all, but another, identical chamber. She was on the verge of leaving when she suddenly realised that if this wasn't her old common room, then there shouldn't be a table and chair her size in it.

"How did those get here?" she wondered slowly. She moved closer, and realised it was clearly old: the surface was scratched and stained, and there were a few dents in it. It wasn't the table in her room at all.

Beside the table was a tall door, identical to the one from her old cell. Unlike all the other doors in this chamber, this one still had a functioning access plate, glowing a pale blue in the dim light. Curious, she pressed it, and the door slowly opened, with a series of jerks that suggested it had not been opened in a long time. To her slight surprise, she found herself in a replica of her cell. There even seemed to be the faded and tattered remnants of a small poster on the wall, and to her horror, it looked rather like the poster Monger had given her on her initial arrival.

Susan shivered. Something very weird and scary was going on here, she thought. It was almost like she had suddenly been sent forwards decades in time, viewing her own future. Suddenly the door slammed shut, and Susan was thrown to the ground as the entire cell jolted, then rapidly rose up like an elevator. Scared by the sudden movement, Susan pressed herself against the wall, trying to get to her feet, but then the cell suddenly stopped rising, and lurched sideways with a wrench that sent her sprawling.

"What the hell!" she cried, getting to her feet. "Hey! Who's doing this! Stop it! I demand you call General Monger! This is Major Murphy! I order you to stop!"

The cell halted just as suddenly, and Susan nearly fell over again. She waited, crouched on the ground for a few seconds, but the movement appeared to have stopped. Nothing else happened, however. She was stuck in the cell, and for a moment she felt blind panic overcome her before she realised that there was a door in front of her. The dim red light made it hard to see details, but the access panel was unlit, and when she tried the manual override, the opening mechanism appeared to be locked.

"We'll see about that," Susan muttered to herself. She squatted down, and punched open the smaller human-sized door at its bottom. Then, gripping the underside of the smaller door, she heaved upwards. There was a brief resistance, then a sudden bang as the locking mechanism surrendered to her titanic strength. Susan slid the door fully up with a shriek of metal, and peered into the gloomy chamber beyond. It was cold and dark, and smelled of stale air. Her heart pounding, she carefully ventured out of the cell.

Susan found herself in a large room, dimly lit from above by a few orange bulbs that flickered on and off at random, making it hard to see. She looked around. The room was full of shelves and desks, and there was a large table, her height, in the middle on the room. As her eyes adjusted, she realised that there seemed to be something lying on it, covered with a sheet. It looked roughly human. Cautiously, she approached it, and lifted the sheet. Then she screamed.

It was a skeleton. A human skeleton. Susan staggered back in shock and horror as the sheet fell to the floor. Then she suddenly realised something else, something which sent a frisson of pure fear through her. The skeleton was that of a person her own size: they were the bones of a giant. Susan's jaw dropped open, and she scrambled away, crying in alarm. "Where's the door! There must be a door! Let me out!"

A large door panel slid open, and Susan dashed through it into the high corridor outside.

"Ginormica! Stop right where you are! Stop immediately!"

Monger's voice cut through her like a saw. She reluctantly turned to see him flying out of the gloom, the red lights on his jetpack looking more like the glaring eyes of an angry beast than ever.

"Who gave you authorisation to access restricted areas?" he demanded.

"No…nobody," Susan stammered. "I just… just…. I was curious."

"Didn't I tell you not to go prying?" Monger told her. "This was not meant for your eyes."

"What… what was that?" Susan gasped. "That skeleton—you had another giant?"

Monger flew closer to her, seeing the fear on her face. "Yes. We had another giant," he told her in a quieter voice. The general flipped on his walkie-talkie. "Monger to Cockroach. Report to Lab Six immediately. Yes, you heard me. Lab Six. On the double. Ginormica has found…_her_."

Monger switched off his walkie-talkie and looked at Susan. "You were seen on the security cameras, and the alarm was sounded the moment you forced open the door. You are never to do that again! Do you understand, Major?"

"Yes, sir," Susan said nervously, but a little petulantly.

"Good. Now follow me," Monger ordered. He flew back to the gloomy room with the skeleton in it. Susan shuddered, and followed him nervously, her heart pounding.

"What is this place?" she asked nervously. "Lab Six? What's Lab Six?"

"Lab Six is where you broke in," Monger informed her. "It has been sealed for half a century." He unlocked a small panel with a key on his belt, then turned the main lights on.

Susan shrieked briefly as the bare room was flooded with light, clearly revealing the pale bones lying on the table.

"This was another giant, wasn't it?" she asked, her voice shaking. "That means I'm not the first you've had here."

"No, you're not the first," Monger admitted. "I'm sorry you had to find out like this."

"Who was this?"

"Cockroach can explain it better than I can. Wait until he gets here."

"Why him?" Susan asked. "What would he know… Wait, he's been here for a long time, hasn't he? Was he was here when this giant was?"

Monger nodded. "He was. This was back in 1958," he told her.

"1958?" Susan asked. "Wait, that sounds familiar… Cockroach was telling me before about… No! You mean…?"

"I'm afraid he does, my dear," Cockroach's small voice sounded from down on the floor. "This is all that remains of poor Nancy Archer, the Fifty Foot Woman."

Susan staggered, unable to believe what she was seeing or hearing. She stared as Cockroach skittered up to the top of the table, and walked over to the giant white skull. He touched it gently, almost lovingly.

"Oh, Nancy, my dear. I have thought about you a lot these past two months," he whispered. "When I first saw her, I swore I would not make the same mistake again. I would protect her, keep her happy. You taught me that. If only I had learned that lesson sooner."

"Doc…" Susan stammered. "Wha—what are you talking about? What is going on here?"

Cockroach looked over the general. "Warren, could I have some time with Susan alone?"

"Right you are, Jacques," Monger said with a brief nod. "I'll be right outside."

"Warren? Jacques?" Susan asked, getting even more confused. "You two are friends?"

"We were, of a sort. To the extent that I could ever have friends," Cockroach said sadly.

"Doc? What the hell is going on here? Tell me! Please!" Susan demanded, looking scared. "You told me you were captured and taken here in 1952 as a…as a monster."

"Not quite. Well, I was a monster in those days," Cockroach admitted with a sigh. He sat down, resting against the dead giantess's skull. "But I was completely human. I have never technically lied to you, my dear. I have just not…told you the entire truth. Or even a little part of it."

"I think you'd better start now," Susan suggested, sitting against the wall. This put her face almost level with Cockroach's.

"I did indeed come here in 1952," Cockroach told her. "Fresh from a post-doc at Caltech, four years after my doctorate. I was young, ambitious, and incredibly arrogant. Monger was a young captain then, and had been placed in charge of dealing with the various mutations that had been caused by the above-ground nuclear testing. My background in biology and physics brought me into this. One of our first big missions was dealing with giant irradiated ants out in New Mexico, back in 1954. That got me started thinking about radiation, and how I could use it in my own works on insects."

"But what about her…about Nancy?" Susan asked.

"Yes, I was just getting to her," Cockroach explained. "After Hiroshima and Nagasaki proclaimed to the galaxy that humans had mastered atomic weaponry, we started to be visited by aliens. The first ones to arrive were in 1947, in New Mexico – I told you about those. I do not know much about the details of the alien visits: even Monger doesn't, though he knows more than me. However I do know that there was at least one later visit, in 1958."

"Wait... In the movie, Nancy Archer was made tall by an alien," Susan said, suddenly understanding.

"Exactly. Now, after examining you, I am certain she was infused with Quantonium, as you have been. But we lacked today's equipment at the time, so I had not the slightest idea what was happening. All I knew then was that it was alien technology."

"You?"

Cockroach hung his head. "Me. The film's account is deliberately inaccurate, of course. Events, places, names are changed. If you're interested, I was changed into Dr. Von Loeb, the specialist. Anyway, she was captured, and brought to the Monster Containment Facility. It was my job to try and discover what had happened, and how."

"Like you were trying with me?" Susan said slowly.

Cockroach paused, then shook his head. "No. At least, I hope not. Back then I was… rather less concerned about harming others. The army was putting a lot of pressure on me for results, as they wanted to replicate her powers, and I was desperate to know how she could be so large, breaking so many laws of physics. And so… well, some of my experiments were rather…unpleasant..." He tailed off, his voice choking, and hung his head. "Oh, Nancy, you poor innocent girl. I know you can never forgive me for what I did to you. I could never even ask for your forgiveness. I can never even forgive myself."

Susan stared at him, her eyes wide with shock. "What did you do to her?" she asked quietly.

Cockroach looked up at her, his antennae drooping. "I tortured her, Susan," he said, so softly she could barely hear him. "I didn't think of it as torture, back then, but it was. I didn't think about anything but my own intellectual arrogance. Perhaps unconsciously I saw Nancy as my enemy, because I could not understand her secrets, what she was hiding from me. But she was not my enemy, she was my victim. She begged me, many times, to let her go, to have mercy, to stop hurting her…and then, finally… she begged me to kill her…"

Susan found she was weeping. "Did you?" she whispered, fearing his answer.

Cockroach shook his head. "But indirectly, yes, I was responsible. She escaped. Security was laxer then, and she took off to Las Vegas. The police caught up with her in a small town to the north of the city. There was nothing I could do. By the time I got there…she was dead. Killed by an exploding power generator. But..." Cockroach paused, and drew a deep breath. "In the end, I think that was what she wanted. She chose a final few hours of freedom, even at the cost of her life, rather than suffer any more of my experiments. So I suppose, yes. I did kill her."

Susan was horrified. She looked at him through her tears, hoping to see some sign that he was, at least, exaggerating. But his expression was more serious and sad than she had ever seen it.

"No, no… I can't believe it. I won't believe it," she gasped, crying, trying to make sense of it all.

"You must," Cockroach said softly.

"But… but you're such a wonderfully kind, caring, compassionate person," she told him.

"Half a century of regret," Cockroach said quietly. "Half a century of living with a crushing burden of guilt and shame. Half a century of trying not to be the monster I am. I'm… I'm so sorry, Susan. I never wanted you to know my sinful past. I was a true monster then." He took another deep breath. "It took becoming a monster on the outside to make me realise that."

"What… what do you mean?" Susan asked, sniffing.

"In late 1962, I was doing a series of experiments back home in Cambridge about gene splicing and matter transportation, trying to create a way to survive a nuclear war. This was the year of the Cuban Missile Crisis, when the entire world stood at the brink of atomic Armageddon. Never mind the history. The exact details don't matter. What does matter is that my experiments went very badly wrong. As you can see. And with that, the last precious, tenuous thread connecting me to humanity snapped. Hideous outside, even more hideous inside, I raged against the world, determined to recreate it in my image. I was obsessed with the idea of creating a master race of human-cockroach hybrids who could survive a nuclear war, and then… and then starting that war myself."

Susan's mouth opened, but she was speechless. She stared at him, unable to believe what she was hearing.

"But my reign of terror, such as it was, was mercifully short-lived. My doomsday devices were never very successful, and in less than a year I was captured and taken to the States. Where I found myself imprisoned in the very facility I had helped construct."

"Serves you right," Susan said bitterly.

"I completely agree," Cockroach told her. "I absolutely deserved it, or worse. But now I was the one being experimented on, by people I had thought were, well, not my friends, as I had no friends, but at least my colleagues. They had assisted me in my experiments on Nancy. And now they were treating me as a lab specimen, subjecting me to many of the same experiments I had subjected poor Nancy to. And the irony was not lost on me, I assure you. With the difference being that I fully deserved the pain and punishment, and poor Nancy, of course, had not…." He took a deep breath, and rubbed his eyes. "But it made me realise, well… a lot of things. About my life, about me, about who I was…. My new position gave me the cold bath of humility I had so desperately needed. I saw what I had been, and vowed I would never go back. I would never, ever want to be that inhuman monster again."

"I…I can't believe this…about you…. I never dreamed…" she sobbed.

"This is why I never objected to my imprisonment," Cockroach added softly. "I deserved it. I was… I was a murderer. Insecto and Bob killed without malice, from instinct. Link killed to defend himself. I… I tortured and killed the innocent in blind, arrogant hubris. I am the worst monster of you all."

There was a long silence, broken only by Susan's sobs. Finally the giantess lifted her tear-streaked face, turning her soft blue eyes on him. "Get out," she told him in a quiet, hollow voice. "Now."

With a sigh, Cockroach did so. Susan found herself alone in the lab, with its cold lighting making the pale, bleached remains of Nancy Archer almost glow. She slowly stood up and walked over to the lonely skeleton, lying in the middle of its sterile tomb.

Gently, reverently, she brushed her fingers over the skull of the giantess, tears dripping down to form small dark spots on the white bones. The bones of the poor girl that Cockroach had tortured. How much had she suffered before she desperately fled, seeking the final freedom of death as her only release from his torments?

"Sister…" she whispered.

.

* * *

**NOTES**: Well, this is Doc's very unpleasant backstory, explaining a few things about him. His backstory is going to play into Susan's story in a while, never fear. Susan is rapidly reaching breaking point, but the others are aware of it, and Doc is realising he could be a little more considerate. Let me stress that there is a reason why I am doing this to Susan, and it's not just conflict for conflict's sake. Stars shine brightest where the night is darkest, after all...

Paolo Manzelli and Les Loew are real biophysicists, whose names I chose more or less as they were the first ones I came across (not knowing a thing about the field, I don't know how important they are, but they seem notable enough).

Some of the descriptions of the base are loosely based on the images in the MvA Art book, but only loosely.

One of the impetuses for creating Cockroach's backstory was the realisation that although his official dossier has him arriving in 1952, and that is the year I first used, the film does indeed say his accident was in 1962. So what happened in that missing decade? Quite a few things really. Doc's reference to "giant irradiated ants" is a reference to the film "Them," and of course if he was there in 1958, and still human, what was he doing? Initially, I was going to have Doc's deep dark secret be that he killed his wife after his accident. But then I decided to link him and Susan and Nancy Archer a bit more, and give Susan an even better reason to reject him.

I decided to post this one fairly promptly after the previous one, as it was complete, but the next chapter will take several more days at least, as a major chunk is still missing (I know what is missing. I just have to write it, but am still fuzzy on the details).


	17. When She Loved Me

**17. When She Loved Me**

Susan said nothing to Cockroach when she returned, and ate her lunch in silence. Link started to make a comment, but she snapped at him, silencing him. Even Bob seemed to be aware that something very serious was happening, as he was less exuberant than usual. Mary sipped at her warm blood quietly, and kept glancing curiously from Susan to Cockroach until the giantess hissed at her to stop.

Susan headed to her room immediately after the meal, and stayed there.

"What on earth happened, Doc?" Link asked.

"Please, I don't want to discuss it right now," Cockroach told him.

"Your friend certainly seems to be rather precious, and not a little stuck up," Mary noted.

"No!" Cockroach took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I've… I shouldn't have snapped at you. But Susan is the least stuck-up person I know. She's sweet and kind and compassionate. She's just… going through a difficult time at the moment."

"If you say so, Doctor," Mary said, raising an eyebrow. "I think you should have a word with her about it, though. This place is bad enough without a moody giantess."

Cockroach looked at the vampire briefly, then shook his head sadly, his antennae drooping. "No, I can't. I can't face her. And she doesn't want to see me."

"Who does she want to see?" Bob asked. "Me?"

"Maybe later," Cockroach told him. "Right now she won't see anyone."

"No scales off my hide," Link shrugged. "You sure you won't tell us?"

Cockroach shook his head. "Please, I need to be alone," he told them softly. "I can't talk about this. Not yet."

He couldn't bear going through that again. He just wanted to sit and think in quiet. The look on Susan's sweet face, in her eyes, was haunting him. It wasn't just the horror, or the sadness. No, what really hurt was the soul-crushing disappointment. When she learnt that someone she had truly respected was utterly unworthy of that devotion. Cockroach had never really realised just how much Susan had admired him until then. And then to discover the truth like that…. It must have been like Derek's rejection all over again; finding out someone you had idolized was not worthy of your love. He had tried to make her happy, keep her from harm. Yet despite all his efforts, he had ended up hurting her. And that hurt him….

Cockroach saw nothing of her all afternoon, as Susan remained in her room. He looked up hopefully when the beautiful giantess sat down at the table for dinner, but she ignored him and ate her meal in silence, reading a comic book on her tablet. He glanced up at her from time to time, but the last time he caught such a look of pain in her face that he kept his eyes averted after that. He couldn't bear to see that look in her eyes. As soon as he was finished eating, he quietly stood and walked slowly to his room, his antennae drooping.

Susan watched him go, her heart aching. After all they had been through, she hated the thought of losing him as a friend, but it was still too hard to deal with what he had done. Those pale bones lying for all those long years in that cold, dark room, of someone who could easily have been her, were haunting her. She would never, in a million years, have ever dreamed he could do what he had confessed to doing. _How could he be so cruel, so heartless_? she asked herself for the hundredth time. Would he ever try and treat her the same way? Susan couldn't bring herself to believe it, but, she reflected sadly, she no longer felt certain about anything to do with the mad scientist.

"Why did I ever tell her?" Cockroach asked himself for the hundredth time. "You had no choice," he replied to himself. "The alternative was lying to her. And you will never do that again. Ever. No matter how much pain it causes you."

He sighed deeply, and resumed measuring out the luminous tritium he had carefully scraped off the hands of several dozen old watches. He had a few ideas he wanted to test regarding using it to increase the efficiency of nuclear explosions. It had been a long time since he had created anything truly destructive, but now he felt like blowing something up. Preferably himself.

He sighed again, and put down his beaker. Throwing himself into his work wasn't helping. Normally, no matter how depressed he got, creating a new and potentially lethal device would calm him down, help him regain his confidence, and improve his mood. The more insane the invention, the better. But not this time. He kept seeing her face appearing in front of him, the look of horror as she realised what he had done. The way those big, soulful eyes had widened, tears welling up as she struggled to comprehend the depths of his evil. And the way that they had grown pale and cold as she realised the depths of his betrayal. Her eyes were so beautiful, Cockroach thought to himself. All those times he had looked into them, since the first time he had met her, they had shown many things: fear, sadness, joy, warmth, and love. But now, for the first time, there was only rejection.

A female voice called his name. For a split second, he thought it was Susan, and his heart skipped a beat. But it was Mary. He decided to ignore her. But she called again, and this time she knocked on his door. Cockroach swore softly, and opened it.

"Doctor Cockroach," Mary said, entering his chaotic room. "You've shut yourself away for long enough. Something's going on between you and Ginormica. What exactly happened this morning?"

"I can't tell you," he said quietly. "It's… It's something bad I did, many years ago."

"Cockroach, I'll bet that whatever you've done hasn't been a tenth as bad as the things I've done over the last couple of centuries. I'm an amoral killer, remember?"

"So am I," Cockroach confessed.

"So? No surprise there. We're monsters. It's what we do. Or did, rather, before we were captured."

"No, you don't understand. It wasn't just that I killed. It was who I killed." He paused, and rubbed his temples. "You might as well know. Susan knows, and she was the one person I should never have told. I told no one, ever. Not Link, not Bob, not the Invisible Man. You don't know what it was like, seeing her faith in me shattering like that. Now she hates me, thinks I'm a monster. And she's right."

"Okay Doctor, start at the beginning, please," Mary said, removing a stack of books from a chair and perching on the edge.

Cockroach began to tell her, slowly at first, and then increasingly rapidly as Mary's face remained impassive, the only sign of a reaction being a slowly rising eyebrow.

Eventually he finished, and looked at her to see how she would respond to his confession.

"Well, Jacques the Giant-Killer, I'm impressed," the vampire admitted. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"Impressed? I'm not sure that's the reaction I was expecting."

"You expected shock? Horror? Revulsion? I'm not a sweet young girl, Doctor. I'm not naïve or innocent. I've done things in my past I'm not proud of either. I've killed more people than you as well. And don't talk to me about arrogance or immorality. For a long time I was completely amoral: human life meant nothing to me, as I could not die, or live. I cared nothing for them; them and their weak flesh. So I know what it is to feel the way you do—the way you did, rather. And I also know that Susan will recover. She'll realise she is judging someone who no longer exists. And it'll do her good to learn she shouldn't idolise people. As they will always betray your faith in them," she finished quietly.

"I just hate hurting her so," Cockroach confessed. "I've tried to protect her, keep her happy. The pain in her face… She looks so sad."

"Yes, she does that a lot," Mary noted acidly. "Seems like pretty much everything cause her to feel sorry for herself."

"Well, she's been through a lot," Cockroach pointed out, feeling he had to defend Susan somehow. "It hasn't been easy on her, being taken away from her family and friends."

"I think she's very insecure," Mary noted. "That's why she's acting the way she has been. She's definitely the jealous type, at least."

"Jealous? Who does she have to be jealous of?"

"Me," Mary told him. "She thinks you're in love with me, you know," she added. "Or at least falling for me."

Cockroach blinked. "Whatever makes you say that, my dear?"

"A girl can tell," Mary told him, showing her fangs in a quick grin. "Or at least more than you can. I've been enjoying watching it build up. She's actually quite jealous indeed. It's very cute."

"Well, I don't really know what to say," Cockroach admitted. "I mean, you're a lovely young lady—"

"Old lady," Mary corrected him dryly. "Don't let this nubile teenage body fool you."

"Uh, well, you're a lovely old lady, and I respect you a great deal, of course."

"But you don't see me in quite the same way as you do Susan," Mary noted, her face carefully neutral.

"Well, no, to be honest," Cockroach admitted.

"Just as well," Mary said with a slight smile. "I wouldn't be able to reciprocate your feelings, in that event."

"Ah? You're a—a…?"

Mary laughed. "A lesbian? No, nothing of the kind. Vampires are simply not capable of deep, passionate emotion. One of those things we lose when we die, it seems. Our levels of oxytocin decline as we age, so we no longer get that hormone-based sense of love or intimacy. Which means I can like someone, but it is not easy to love them."

"Unfortunately, the same does not apply to being half-insect," Cockroach noted quietly.

"You miss her friendship, don't you?" Mary asked.

"Desperately," he admitted. "I catch a glimpse of her face, her eyes, and all the warmth and love I used to see has gone. I know in terms of size I must seem like a toy to her… but I still dream that she'll smile at me and hold me, just like she used to."

"Doctor, are you in love with Susan?" Mary asked him suddenly, looking into his huge eyes.

Cockroach froze for several seconds. Then he nodded. "Deeply. Maybe from the moment I first saw her." There was a long pause, and he sighed. "When I first saw her, pushed out into the common room, a beautiful, powerful giantess, alone and scared about what had happened to her… something happened inside me. I knew I would do everything in my power to protect her, keep her safe, make her happy—everything I failed to do for poor Nancy. Maybe I saw her as my chance for redemption. I don't know. What I do know is that every hour we spent together lives within my heart. when she was sad, I was there to dry her tears. And when she was happy, so was I…."

She was cold. The chill slowly penetrated her, and she became dimly aware that she was lying down on a hard surface, and a noise was sounding. Her vision was fuzzy, filled with strange images. There was a scuttling sound, and a low cackle beyond her vision.

"Doc, is that you?" she whispered.

"Just relax, my dear," his familiar tones came. "This won't hurt a bit. It'll hurt a lot, in fact."

"Huh? What do you mean?" Susan blinked, and looked around. She was in a huge room, brilliantly lit, with walls and ceiling so far away they were lost in the glare. Above her a large device was lowering a probe, tipped with a drill, towards her.

"Doc!" she cried. "Where am I? What's going on?"

"Quiet now, I need to concentrate," Cockroach said. She still couldn't see him. But the probe was coming closer and closer. Susan tried to sit up, but found herself powerless to move.

"Help!" she called. "Doc! Stop this! What are you doing?"

"I have to get your quantonium!" he cackled, his laugh getting increasingly loud.

The drill came closer and closer, and Susan was utterly unable to move.

"Give it to me, Nancy! I must have it!" Cockroach yelled in a voice that filled the room with thunder.

Then she spotted him, standing on her chest. His mouth was open and dripping blood, with two great long fangs arching out. He bent down and buried them in her, the pain beyond anything she had every experienced. Susan screamed in agony as he bit into her heart, grinding away at her flesh, sucking out her quantonium.

Then she found herself falling, down a long dark tunnel. Twisting and turning, she spotted something pale and shining at the bottom as she fell faster and faster. With a gasp of shock she recognised it as a skeleton, and instinctively knew it was hers. With a tremendous crash, she landed on it, and shattered into a million pieces. A terrified scream filled the air, echoing and re-echoing….

Susan sat bolt upright in bed, her heart racing. It took a few seconds before she realised she was back in her room, and the scream that had woken her up was her own. Her hands were shaking, and her legs felt like jelly. She realised that she was also weeping.

"Oh God, Nancy…" she whispered, wiping her eyes. "I am so, so sorry…."

"I heard you scream in the night… Are you all right?" Cockroach asked nervously after breakfast the next morning.

"I'm fine," Susan said dully. She looked at him, and her face suddenly grew angry. "You couldn't even have done the decent thing and given her a proper burial?" she stormed. "To leave her lying out like that, like some discarded lab specimen! Why, Doctor? Why?"

"Uh, well, I... You're right," Cockroach stammered, taken aback by the fury in her voice. "I suppose we should have, but I was still too curious. And the army wanted more research done. Her skeleton is like yours. Infused with quantonium, though we didn't know it at the time. But we did know her bones were unbreakable. So I wanted to try and replicate their strength for use in tank armour. But I failed. I had no idea what was making them so strong, and until the development of the atomic force microscope we had no way of even detecting the quantonium, let alone extracting it. We still can't do that."

"Just as well!" Susan told him. "I'd hate to think you'd try and extract mine!"

"Never! Susan, please, I swear on all that is sacred, I would never do that to you! Please, believe me!"

Susan looked at him, seeing his desperation and sincerity, his sadly drooping antennae, and for a brief moment her face softened. She wanted so much to be able to pick him up, hold him close like she used to. But each time she saw his face, a vision of her nightmare, of Nancy Archer screaming in pain and terror as the drill came ever closer, filled her mind. She shuddered, and looked away again.

"Please, let me be by myself," she asked him.

Cockroach hung his head, but did as she requested. Susan was now quite alone. She stood up and walked slowly out of the room, along the corridor to the old common room. She looked out from the doorway into the cold empty room and sighed, remembering her first day here, which seemed so long ago now. How she had walked out into the middle of this great chamber, wondering if she were dreaming. And that horrifying moment when she had realised what had happened to her. That moment when everything she had ever dreamed her life would be was taken away from her, and replaced with both more power, and more weakness, than she could have imagined.

She walked out again now, listening to the way her feet sounded on the bare floor. Heavy, like the steps of a giantess. Step by step, she walked over to her old cell, and sat down in the corner, drawing her legs up, and rested her head on her arms. She remembered the shock she had felt, the terror, the horrible sense of dread and loneliness that had engulfed her that first night. And she knew that Nancy must have felt that fear every single night of her time here, trapped in this dark grey cell, her only source of comfort a tiny poster on the wall. No. She could not forgive him. Not for that. Not now. Maybe not ever….

.

* * *

**NOTES OF NOTE**: Tritium is a substance found on watch hands that makes them glow, and has uses for increasing the efficiency of nuclear explosions as I have stated. I presume you'd need a fair amount, however. Or be happy with very small explosions...  
Oxytocin is the so-called "love hormone." Wikipedia has a long list of the various ways it may affect love in all its forms. I decided it might work to have Mary be a little more detached and inhuman, as well as to remove her from any serious contention as a love triangle's third side.

An atomic force microscope is able to see really really small things. I needed a microscope technology that didn't exist in the 1950s or '60s, since the electron microscope is older than I realised.

As usual, I shall refrain from discussing themes here, as they should be apparent, and if not, it's a problem with my writing, so please let me know if you think I've gone off the rails (ooh, foreshadowing...).

Anyway, it's a slightly shorter chapter as I ended up splitting it in two: this part, dealing with the immediate aftermath from Susan's discovery, and the next chapter, which features an action sequence and ended up being a bit longer than expected. The next chapter should be up faster than this one was, at least.

(posted 6 April 2013)


	18. Susan Catches the Train

**18. Susan Catches the Train**

"Ginormica! Vampiretta! Code Red!" Monger's voice boomed through the common room that afternoon. Susan looked up in surprise from her sofa, where she had been watching a video compilation of some of her press conferences on the big-screen television while flipping through some press cuttings on her tablet.

"Red? General, are you sure?"

"Damn sure. Report to Bay One immediately."

Susan looked over at the other monsters. "Just us?"

"You're the only ones who can handle this," Monger told her. "Move!"

"What the hell is going on?" Susan muttered as she stood up, putting her tablet aside.

"How should I know?" Link snapped. "Clearly something too much for me to handle, at any rate."

"Okay, be like that," she snapped back. "I don't have time to deal with your feelings of inadequacy."

"Susan, be careful," Cockroach warned her.

"Oh, I'll be fine," she said, not looking at him.

"I meant about how you treat Link," he said, but she didn't hear him, as she was already heading out the door.

"Do you think she's ever gonna listen to you again, Doc?" Link asked.

Cockroach sighed. "I hope so. But it might take a while…"

* * *

Susan arrived at the airlifter bay to find Monger there waiting with Mary.

"Hey, Bloody Mary!" Susan called.

"Will you stop calling me that?" Mary shot back.

"Maybe," Susan said with a shrug and slight smile. "Maybe not."

Mary snorted, and turned to Monger. "Why am I summoned, General?" she asked. "I was in the middle of a writing an important paragraph for my monograph on the oxygen binding capacity of haemoglobin in vampires."

"We have a situation, monsters," Monger told them.

"What is it, General?" Susan asked.

"A train carrying spent nuclear fuel to the Yucca Mountain repository site has lost control. The driver cannot be raised, the dead man's switch isn't working, and it's heading straight for Las Vegas. The nuclear material is stored in special containers, but if by some freak accident they should leak, or terrorists get their hands on it, well…"

"I understand, General. How long do we have?"

"Less than an hour until it hits Las Vegas. MF-1 is prepped and ready. Let's roll!"

"Roll?" Mary rolled her eyes. "I do not 'roll'… And why am I here, anyway?"

"We have to catch a train, and you're the fastest monster. We've clocked you at speeds of up to two hundred miles an hour. In addition, you and Ginormica are both immune to nuclear and atomic forces. Ginormica due to her Quantonium, and you since you're already technically dead, remember."

"Wow, I'm really immune? Amazing…" Susan breathed.

"And just why should I exert myself to stop this runaway train of yours?" Mary asked.

"Aren't you worried about an accident?" Susan asked, shocked at how callous Mary was acting.

The vampire shrugged. "Not my problem. Nor do I have any love for the United States government or military, considering they have kidnapped me and are holding me against my will."

"Well, Little Debbie," Monger told her with a growl, "should you prove of value here, you will find your freedoms are increased. Oh, and the alternative is to find your rations cut. I hope you like cold stale blood, served just once a day."

Mary shuddered. "You make a most eloquent argument, General."

"I thought so. Now move it!"

Susan scrambled into the cargo area of the giant airlifter, followed by Mary, and braced herself as it screamed into the air. It didn't climb very high, however—she could see that it was flying just a few thousand feet above the ground. She was intrigued to notice that Mary was sitting very still in her seat, gripping the arms tightly. It seemed that the new monster had one weakness, at least.

"So, you scared of flying?" she asked with a grin.

Mary glanced over at the recumbent giantess, and raised a suspicious eyebrow. "I…have disliked it for a while. Ever since I was the only survivor of a fatal crash, in fact."

"Wow, I'm sorry. That must have been nasty," Susan said, rather shocked. She had not expected anything like this.

"It was," Mary said, her tone flat. Her eyes took on a faraway gaze. "This was back in 1954, and I was flying in a de Havilland Comet from Rome to Heathrow. The plane crashed into the Mediterranean, killing everyone on board, and I spent two days struggling in freezing winter water before I managed to get to land."

"Merciful God…" Susan breathed, her eyes wide.

"Your _merciful..._ God did nothing to save those people," Mary told her coldly. "Or me. I'd have been killed if I wasn't already dead."

Susan giggled. "Sorry. It just sounded funny the way you said it. I'm not used to…uh, the…"

"The undead?" Mary sighed. "There are worse things to be, I suppose."

"You don't mean a giant, do you?" asked Susan, her eyes narrowing. Her patience with the new monster's insults was wearing very thin.

Mary looked up at her, holding her gaze for a few seconds, then smiled, showing her fangs. "No, believe it or not, I was not thinking of giants. Don't get so defensive."

"I am not defensive!" Susan retorted.

"Sure you are. You're being defensive right now."

Susan glared at her, but remained silent. She was quite annoyed to have to share a mission with the ancient vampire girl, and decided that the best course of action was to say as little as possible. Instead she turned her mind to Cockroach, and Nancy, wondering yet again just how he could have been so monstrous. She rolled over, facing away from Mary so that the vampire would not see how her eyes were watering. She wasn't even sure whether it was what Cockroach had done to Nancy, or what he had done to her, that was making her weep.

* * *

"Right, monsters," Monger told them a little later. "We'll be landing at Nellis Air Force Base in about fifteen minutes. Once we stop, you get out immediately and run north. Vampiretta, you're the fastest, so you'll need to take point. Ginormica, you follow. We're in a populated area, so you'll need to take care about vehicles and other objects. Don't try to beat Vampiretta. I'll be following you both, but won't be able to keep up. So head in the direction I point until you come to the expressway. Avoid the roads, and cut straight across the desert. The railway tracks are just a bit north of the expressway. When you see them, turn left."

"Right, General," Susan said.

"No, left," he reminded her.

"I know. Left, right," she said, and giggled.

"This is no laughing matter, Major," Monger said sternly.

"No, sir," she replied more quietly. "It's not, you're right. Sorry."

"Follow the tracks down. Vampiretta, since you're the fastest monster we have, it will be your job to get to the locomotive and unhook the freight cars. Then use the emergency manual brake to stop them. Ginormica, you'll be in charge of actually stopping the locomotive before it derails. And cleaning up any mess."

"General, are you sure it's safe? I mean, this is nuclear waste we're talking about…"

"You don't have anything to worry about," he assured her. "You're immune, remember? Radiation can't hurt you."

"If you say so, General," Susan said, a little sceptically.

"However the good people of Las Vegas are not, so we need to keep them safe," Monger told the two monsters. "That's your highest priority! Got that?"

"Yes, sir!" Susan said. "Is there… I mean is there likely to be any spilled waste."

"That's a negative," Monger told her. "The containers of spent nuclear fuel are tested against every conceivable accident. They are called castor containers, which stands for 'CAsk for Storage and Transport Of Radioactive material.' Each one is about twenty feet long, is made of thick lead and steel, and can weigh up to a hundred and forty tons. So you should not have a problem carrying them, Ginormica," he added.

"No, none at all," Susan agreed, smiling. It definitely felt very good to be strong. She glanced at Mary, and was rather pleased to see a brief expression of shock and awe, quickly hidden, on the small vampire's face. _I'll show her what I can do_, Susan thought to herself. _She won't be as quick to laugh about me walking like a peasant!_

* * *

The giant plane soon touched down, and Susan slid out as fast as she could.

"Wait, it's bright daylight," Mary called, hanging back inside.

"So?" Monger asked.

"So the sun hurts me, remember," Mary shot back.

"Your complaining hurts my ears," the general told her unkindly. "It won't harm you unless you're out there too long. So I advise you not to waste time."

Mary snarled and left the plane, then waited in its shadow.

"Don't know why she hates the sun," Susan commented to Monger. "I love it, myself." She stretched and looked around. "Ah, what a gorgeous blue sky! I don't get outside enough!"

"We ain't here for sightseeing, Major!" Monger called up, reversing his jeep down the ramp. "Go! Stop it before it derails!"

Mary made a face, and remained under the shade of the aircraft.

"And remember, the sooner you stop it, the sooner you can be back out of the sun," Monger added.

Mary was gone. Susan was stunned at the vampire's speed. In just the blink of an eye she had reached the end of the runway, and was lost to sight.

"What are you waiting for, Major? A taxi?" Monger shouted. "Move it, soldier!"

"Sir!" Susan sprinted after Mary, vaulting across the roads. She loped over the scraggy semi-desert that lay on the outskirts of Las Vegas, her feet thundering over the ground and sending up clouds of dust. In a few moments she came to Interstate 93, and bounded across each of the two-lane sections in a flash. It didn't take her long to reach the tracks, and she skidded to a halt just past them, sending up a great cloud of dust. Turning, she followed along the tracks at a more sedate pace, keeping an eye out for the rogue train.

It didn't take her long to spot it. A train pulled by a yellow Union Pacific locomotive was heading along at about fifty or sixty miles an hour.

"Where the hell is Mary?" Susan wondered. She sprinted up to the front of the train, and spotted the small vampire clinging to the outside of the locomotive.

"Why haven't you unhooked them?" Susan called as she jogged alongside the train.

"I am trying!" Mary shouted back. "So are you! Very!"

"Well, hurry!" Susan called. Then she stumbled and tripped. She had not seen a low bridge that crossed the railway, and suddenly found herself losing her balance. With an effort, she avoided falling onto the road, but failed to regain her footing and crashed through a warehouse roof, landing in a pile of dust and debris.

"Son of a bitch!" she swore, looking around to see how much damage she had caused. "Don't mind me," she called to the stunned workers inside. "Anyone hurt?"

The stunned workers shook their heads, and Susan grinned. "Great. Well, I'm off to save your city. Gotta rush!"

She picked herself up and stepped out of the rubble, then headed after the train again. By now Mary had managed to release the coupling, and she could see that the locomotive was slowly pulling away.

"I'll stop the engine, you find the emergency brakes for the freight cars!" she called to Mary.

"I know!" Mary yelled back, crawling carefully along the side of the lead freight car.

Susan jumped over another viaduct, then sprinted up to a clear bit of track. She stood astride the track, and bent forwards with her hands ready to grab the locomotive. "Get a load of this, Mary…" she muttered. She could hear a helicopter overhead, and wondered if it was a press chopper. Her arrival in Vegas would certainly not have gone unnoticed, and she rather looked forward to some fresh news reports she could post on her Facebook wall.

The huge freight locomotive came bearing down on her, and she stuck out her arms to catch it. "Okay, train. Try and get past Ginormica," she said with a confident grin.

Its massive weight rammed into her, sending her flying backwards. Susan landed on her back with a tremendous crash which knocked the wind out of her. The shock of hitting her dislodged the locomotive's front bogies, derailing it. The huge engine slowly twisted sideways as the rear pushed the front askew, then it finally flipped over on its side, landing on the rails with a noise like a thousand steel plates being dropped down a concrete well. With nothing but its own weight to slow it, it skidded at high speed along the rails, the screaming metal throwing sparks, and sending up a huge cloud of dust and gravel on either side.

Before Susan could catch her breath and get up, the locomotive smashed headlong into her leg, pushing her physically along the rails and dragging her body over the ground. Susan was in agony from the impact, as well as from being shoved across the ballast, but could do nothing until the sliding locomotive finally spun off the rails and ground to a halt.

Susan lay across the rails, groaning in pain. She could feel blood trickling down her back, and her right leg was throbbing where the locomotive had struck it. Her jumpsuit was ripped badly, and the back of her shirt was largely missing. Feeling a breeze behind her, she realised that there were also some fairly revealing rips in her jumpsuit pants as well.

"Move it!" came a sudden yell, and Susan turned to see the freight cars coming rapidly down the track. They were going much more slowly than the engine had, but were still doing at least thirty miles an hour. Susan tried to get to her feet and scramble out of the way, but she was too late. The first car struck her foot and derailed, the trailing flatcars carrying the cylindrical shipping containers pancaking into it with a tremendous series of crashes that sent Susan flying to the ground again.

Groaning, she picked herself up slowly and looked around. "Damn," she swore to herself, coughing from the fine dust and the smoke billowing out of the destroyed engine. "That didn't work too well…" Then she realised that there was no sign of the new monster. "Hey! Mary? Where are you?" she called in a panic.

"Over here," the vampire called back in a muffled voice. "If you would be good enough to stop faffing about and remove this bloody wagon from on top of me, I would like to get out. And then I would like to kill you."

Susan lifted up the rather mangled flatcar, and saw Mary lying face down in the dirt, covered in dust and grease.

"Are you… are you okay?" she asked nervously, setting the flatcar down carefully on the rails. "I'm so sorry!"

Mary slowly picked herself up, and glared up at the giantess.

"You bloody idiot! What the hell were you thinking?"

"What? I stopped the train—that was what I was supposed to do!" Susan shot back. "I got hurt doing so as well, which makes the second time I've been injured trying to save a city!"

"Why in the name of the seven hells did you try to stop it that way?"

"How else would I stop it?"

"You may be titanically strong, but you're still subject to the laws of physics!" Mary told her, trying and failing to wipe the grease out of her hair. " Doesn't matter how strong you are: when two hundred tons of locomotive hits you at sixty miles an hour it's like a small bomb going off!"

"I caught Gallaxhar's power core, and that was heavier," Susan reminded her, rather annoyed.

Mary laughed. "That's because it dropped onto you from above. All the force went through you to whatever you were standing on. Here you had nothing to brace against, so were tossed back like a rag doll. I thought it was quite amusing. Or would have been if I hadn't got caught up in your utter incompetence."

"Go fuck yourself, you bloodsucking corpse," Susan spat.

There was sharp intake of breath, and Mary flushed pink.

"Okay, I'm sorry," Susan muttered nervously. "Look, I didn't mean it. It's just that… I've just been… I've had a lot on my mind lately."

"Yes. I know," Mary told her. "I know better than you yourself, in fact. And you should get over it. You're acting rather childishly."

"Why you little—"

"Monsters! What in tarnation happened here!"

Monger braked his jeep with a screech, and hopped out. He was followed by a small convoy of trucks and jeeps, which disgorged soldiers, medical personnel, and scientists carrying radiation counters who immediately started scanning the area for leaks.

Susan saluted. "General, sir! Runaway train stopped, as ordered!" she said, feeling sure Monger would appreciate her efforts.

He ignored her. "Any casualties, Doctor?" he asked as the medical team investigated the drivers' cab.

There was a short silence. Then one of the doctors poked his head out of the broken window.

"It's empty!"

"We need to find the engineers! They must have been thrown from the cab when they derailed! Ginormica! Move that locomotive!" Monger ordered.

Susan's heart skipped several beats. Had she killed them? Had her over-confidence meant their deaths? The train looked so much like a large model that she had completely forgotten that there would be real human beings in it. Humans she might have been responsible for killing. Her heart pounding in fear, she carefully picked up the locomotive, to gasps of awe from almost everyone.

"My God, General," one of the army men breathed, watching her hold the huge yellow engine. "I wouldn't want to get in her way when she's angry…"

Mary, waiting in the shade, was stunned. She knew that the locomotive must weigh at least two hundred tons, and Susan was just casually picking it up as if it was no heavier than a toy. She watched in awe as the giantess carefully placed it on a clear section of track as easily as a child playing with a rather oversize model. With a chill of fear, Mary suddenly realised just how much sheer raw power Susan had. Perhaps she had a right to be a little bit arrogant, after all...

While Susan was shifting the locomotive, the other army personnel were scouting around, looking for any bodies. Susan watched them nervously, terrified of what they might find. What would happen to her if she had killed them? Expulsion from the Monster Force? Prison? The pain in her back forgotten, the giantess squatted beside the wrecked train, biting her lower lip anxiously.

"No sign of anyone, General," one of the men reported. "It looks as if they weren't on board when the train, er, crashed."

"Then where the hell are they?" Monger demanded. "Check the tracks back for the next fifty miles!"

"I'm just glad I didn't kill them by mistake," Susan confessed, feeling intensely relieved.

Monger turned to her, looking angrier than she had ever seen him.

"Major, you acted with a total disregard for human life and property!" he shouted at her. "It's only because there was no one in the train that you didn't end up killing them! Do you understand?"

"Yes…yes, sir," Susan stammered, taken aback by the anger in his voice. "But… I had to stop the train."

"In just about the most destructive way possible? You don't have to solve all problems by violence!"

"Uh, I… " she started, but Monger ignored her, turning to the white-gowned scientist beside him.

"Dr Smallwood! Is there any radiation leakage?"

"Very slightly elevated readings from the castor container that was on car three, General," Smallwood replied. "Almost certainly residual from the originating site, but I'd recommend removing it to a safe location for full decontamination, as well as all personnel here."

"What about the civilians?"

"It's an industrial area, with low-density construction," Smallwood noted. "Minimal chances of any effects. We'll establish a perimeter and carry out some screenings of people in the area, but I don't think we have anything to worry about."

"Good," Monger told him. "Major Payne will be in charge of that. In the meantime, we need to get this container out to the desert. Ginormica! That's where you can make up for your incompetence!"

Susan made a face, but quickly saluted once she saw the general's furious expression. With a sigh, she picked up the castor container, cradling it carefully in both arms.

"Where do you want it, sir?" she asked dully.

"Take it back to Nellis AFB. That will do for now. I'll lead you in my jeep. Vampiretta, you ride with me."

Mary reluctantly left the shade, and sat next to Monger, shading her face from as much of the sun as she could with a clipboard.

"Uh, Major?" Smallwood called up.

"Yes?" Susan peered past the castor container at the white-garbed scientist, and had a fleeting image in her mind of Cockroach. She rather wished he were here, despite her anger and disappointment in him, if for no other reason than he would have told her the best way to stop the train. And he would probably have gone to bat for her with Monger, like he always did….

"The radiation levels are very, very low. And the general tells me you're actually, er, immune. So don't worry about that. But just don't, ah, drop it, please."

"I'll try not to," Susan said. She hoisted the twenty-foot lead and steel container onto her shoulders. "Don 't worry. It's not that heavy, really."

"Not… that… heavy…?" Smallwood breathed. "My God, Monger. The stories were right. She really is incredible."

Susan smiled at that. It was nice that some people appreciated her. Feeling a little better, she proceeded to walk down the railway line, following the general in his jeep. She didn't know what he was so mad about. How else was she supposed to stop a runaway train? And wasn't the key thing to stop it before it ended up causing even more damage? Wasn't that an acceptable risk? Monger had told her himself, back on the Golden Gate Bridge, about how collateral damage or even death was sometimes unavoidable. But Susan knew that even so, she would have been devastated if she had in fact hurt anyone. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks that the engineers were only missing.

She slowly trudged along the dusty railway, trying to balance the castor container. It wasn't the weight that was the issue, but the size of the twenty-foot container, and the fact that being a smooth cylinder meant it was hard to hold. Her back wasn't stinging as much as it had been, at least. And the pain in her leg was slowly subsiding. Nevertheless, it was still a far from an enjoyable hike back, so Susan was very glad indeed to finally see the huge concrete aprons of the air force base. Following Monger's directions, she carefully lowered the battered container onto a distant part of the base, where it was immediately surrounded by a decontamination crew who began hosing it down.

"Right, Major, remove your clothes," Monger ordered.

"What?!" Susan called, shocked.

"You too, Vampiretta. Quickly."

"Why?" Susan asked, turning a little pink. "General, I'm not going to strip here, in front of these people!" she exclaimed as Mary began casually peeling off her clothing.

"You have to. You need to be decontaminated as well," Monger told her.

"But… but you said I was impervious to radiation," Susan protested nervously.

"You might be, but we still can't have you tracking it all over the place," Mary told her, dropping her panties and standing there stark naked, looking utterly unconcerned about who saw her. "Come on General, get it over with."

Monger signalled to a decontamination unit member, who gently hosed the thin pale vampire down. In the meantime, Monger started to remove his own clothes, and Susan quickly looked away as he was washed.

"You can do this now, with just us three, or later, when the rest of the personnel arrive," Monger informed her over the noise of the shower.

"Son of a—" Susan swore. "Okay, then. Just… just don't look, okay?" She reluctantly began removing her clothing. Once naked, she remained facing away from Monger, and gasped as the cold water struck her tender back.

"We'll get that checked out as soon as you've had your shower," Monger called up. "You can turn around now. I'm decent again."

"I'm not!" Susan shot back. "You turn around!"

"He has, don't worry," Mary informed her. "And you need to turn around so they can do your front."

Her face flushed with shame, Susan did so. She glanced down at Mary, who was standing there casually, not appearing in the least worried about who saw her naked.

"Aren't you embarrassed?" she asked as the fire hose sluiced her front.

"I stopped giving a damn about what humans thought about me when they decided I was nothing more than a beast, and tried to kill me," Mary responded in a voice dripping with scorn.

"You don't see yourself as human at all?" Susan asked in surprise.

"No. And in time, neither will you," Mary told her calmly. "Because you're not."

Susan looked down at the pale monster, and shuddered. Despite her size, she still thought of herself as fully human, and Mary's attitude was a little unnerving. The thought that one day she might completely lose her humanity was more than a little scary. But it could never happen to her, surely? She wasn't undead or anything freakish, just… rather tall. But still human. Definitely very human.

Someone brought a large tarp for Susan, and she quickly wrapped it around herself, leaving her injured back bare. She wished she were back home, with actual towels, and a change of clothes. Or was even a more normal size, she thought as she looked enviously at the large fluffy towel Mary was using to dry herself.

"I stand here dripping, with a clammy cold tarp around me, and she gets real towels. Oh look, and new fatigues," she muttered to herself as Mary started to get dressed again.

"Ginormica! The base physician wants to check out your injuries!" Monger called.

Susan looked down, and saw a dark-haired woman in her thirties saluting her. She returned the salute.

"I'm Doctor Hu. Would you like to do this in the Monster Force aircraft instead of out here?" the doctor asked her.

"Very much so," Susan said gratefully. "Thank you."

"The boys can be a little inconsiderate of women at times," the doctor explained as they walked along, followed by three nurses carrying bags. "Not from malice, or lust. They're just not that sensitive, most of them."

"How do you manage?" Susan asked.

Hu shrugged. "I'm their doctor. I've seen them all naked a lot more often than they've seen me naked."

"Well, I'd still prefer to retain some modesty," Susan told her as she entered the cargo hold. Mary joined them, and sat down with a sigh of relief.

"I hate, hate, hate the sun," she said, taking a long drink of water. "I could really use some fresh blood, too. Doc, got any B positive I could suck down? That's my favourite flavour."

"No."

"Susan, you're A negative, right? That's pretty tasty too," Mary said with an evil smile, looking at the giantess's smooth skin.

"You try and suck my blood and I'll squash you flatter than a pancake," Susan warned.

Mary laughed. "Only joking. They all taste the same anyway."

"Well, you still can't have any of mine."

"Can't hurt to ask," Mary said.

"It can if I whomp you," Susan noted lightly, trying not to smile. "Now shut up; the doctor needs to fix me up."

She lay down on her side and unwrapped her tarp, giving the doctor access to her injuries.

"Okay, what have we here?" the doctor said. "Nasty gravel rash, could be worse. It'll need a spot of disinfectant, about a bottle or two. Nasty contusion on your right leg…. That's interesting. You just got that now?"

Susan nodded. "Yeah. When the train hit me."

Hu whistled. "Hit by a freight train and you only get a bruise? Unbelievable. It's already greenish, which means that it's undergoing phagocytosis and the degradation of haemoglobin to biliverdin. So I'd say that at this rate it'll be gone in a couple of days. That's amazingly fast."

"I heal quickly," Susan explained. "The Quantonium in me does that. Gives me unbreakable bones as well. But it also means no more periods," she added with a slight trace of sadness.

"Fascinating," the doctor said slowly, looking her over. Susan wasn't too impressed by the clinical response. It made her feel like some lab specimen to be analyzed. But she kept quiet as Hu applied disinfectant to her bare back, and started digging out some of the embedded stones. Susan tensed, and sucked in her breath.

"That stings a little," she admitted.

"Sorry. I had to get a piece of gravel out," Hu said, holding up a chunk of ballast an inch across and looking at it with amazement.

After a few more moments, the doctor announced that all the dirt had been removed, and Susan sighed in relief as a soothing salve was applied.

Monger came in without knocking, and Susan flushed pink with embarrassment and anger as she quickly covered her bare bottom.

"We've flown in a spare jumpsuit for you, so get changed and report back to the crash site," Monger ordered her.

"Huh? What for?"

"Cleanup operation," Monger told her. "You're much faster than bringing in cranes. Oh, and also, you caused the derailment, so you clean it up."

"I saved San Francisco. I saved Rome. I helped save the entire damn planet!" Susan whined. "And now I'm relegated to picking up trash?"

"You'll do what you're told to do, soldier!" Monger barked, his face red.

Susan fumed. She took the new jumpsuit someone handed her, and crawled out of the airlifter after rewrapping her tarp around her breasts. Ducking behind the plane, she changed quickly. Her injuries stung a bit, and she wished she had something backless. An elegant gown would be nice for once, she thought, though the idea of cleaning up containers of nuclear waste in a long flowing dress made her smile.

"Right, get back to the site," Monger told her. "Report to Major Payne!"

"Major pain indeed," Susan muttered. She sighed, and headed back across the desert to the tracks, then followed them down. Was this what her life had come to? Acting as a human crane? Were her size and strength merely going to be exploited to save the army some money? This wasn't what she had been expecting when Monger asked her to join Monster Force. Not at all…

She morosely strode across another road, ignoring the cries of amazement from the people below. It was kind of tempting to kick a few of the cars parked alongside the track, but she resisted her more angry impulses. In a few moments, she was back at the crash site, where she saw that another train had been brought up as close as possible to the one she had destroyed.

"Major, glad to see you again," a tall thin man told her. "I'm Major John Payne, 505th OG, in charge of this operation. I can't tell you what an honour it is to work with someone of your, ah, stature."

"Monger told me you needed some heavy lifting done," Susan said with a resigned sigh. "That's what I'm here for. Apparently it's all I'm good for."

"Excellent. If you could carefully place the castor containers from the derailed flatbed cars onto the cars on that train there, it would save us a huge amount of time and taxpayer dollars."

"If you say so," Susan said, trying to remain polite. She bent down and picked up the nearest one, and walked over to the fresh train.

"Down here, Major!" someone called, and Susan carefully lowered the huge tank onto the flatbed as directed.

There were eighteen more to shift, and by the end Susan was starting to feel rather tired. Not from the weight as such, but the repetitive boredom of picking one up, marching a hundred yards, placing it carefully down, adjusting its position if necessary, and then marching back to do it all over again. By the time she had finally set the last one in its place, and Major Payne had let her return, it was getting late in the day. She finally arrived back at Nellis around eight, as the last glow of sunset was fading from the sky, and clambered inside the plane. MF-1 felt like a flying coffin, and she longed to be able to sit up normally and not feel like some ridiculous freak. She was dusty and tired and hungry, and her temper was rapidly fraying.

* * *

"Ginormica, you really screwed up this time," Monger told her after the plane took off.

"Oh come on. No harm was done," Susan replied, rather more snappily than she had intended.

"No harm? Aside from the loss of an expensive train, the closure of the track for a week, the destruction of that warehouse you managed to trip into, and the inevitable negative publicity about nuclear waste and its dangers by liberal wimps in the lame-stream media?"

"Well…. The terrorists didn't get it," Susan pointed out.

"I'll need a full report on my desk by dinnertime tomorrow," he ordered.

"A report?" Susan whined. "You're kidding me, General…"

Monger ignored her, and turned to Mary.

"You done good today, Vampiretta," he noted. "You managed to unhook the cars and brake them significantly before they hit…hit Ginormica. You may well have prevented a major disaster."

"So does this mean you'll free me?" Mary asked, her voice a little higher than normal.

"That's a negative," Monger told her. "By which I mean no."

"You freed the other monsters after the robot attack," she reminded him.

"That was by direct order of the President, and a much more serious situation," Monger explained.

Mary looked at him angrily, then sighed.

"Think of missions like this as earning Brownie points!" the general added. "Each one gets you a little more of that precious freedom! And one day we may even let you go. Once you have repaid your debt to society, that is."

"Because I'm a monster?"

"Because you're a murderer," Monger retorted.

"Ah, that," Mary said, and smiled slightly. "The difference between me and you, then, is that when I kill people, I get locked away, and when you kill people, you get a medal."

Monger went purple. "One more comment like that and you'll be on cold blood for a month, Little Debbie! Do I make myself quite clear?"

Mary glared at him, but kept her mouth shut and nodded briefly. The general left for the flight deck, and Mary looked over at Susan.

"I really don't know if I can take much more of him," she told the giantess. "I am just not cut out for the chain of command. Not after centuries of being my own person, taking orders from no one."

"I'm getting a little sick of him myself," Susan replied sullenly. "Of him, of Link, of everyone. Of this whole damn Monster Force thing, frankly."

Mary looked up at her. "There's hope for you yet," she said, and smiled. The first genuinely warm smile Susan had seen her show.

* * *

**MANGLED NOTES**: First off, thanks to all those readers who have made my two main stories the most favourited of all MvA stories published in the last year. I hope the rest of this lives up to your expectations...

First off, the nuclear fuel containers, known as CASTOR containers (CAsk for Storage and Transport Of Radioactive material; should be CSTRM of course) are exactly as I describe them. In reality, it appears that there would be essentially no chance whatsoever of a leak, reading up on the tests they are given. So I've kept things minimal here.

Yucca Mountain, in my universe, has been completed - in the real world, the project has, for the moment, been cancelled. However the location is perfect for my purposes, so I have changed history (such power! I must use it responsibly!).

If any of you are wondering if there really was a plane crash when and where I described...well of course there was. The only difference was that in the real crash, everyone died. Again, this being real has no bearing whatsoever on the rest of the story, but I just like researching these things.

The geography of Nellis AFB and the train tracks through Las Vegas are correct. I can even tell you which warehouse Susan fell into. I love Google Maps/SV.

The weight of a Series 9 Union Pacific General Electric diesel-electric locomotive is a bit over 200 tons. The speed limit for a Class 4 track like this one is 60 mph. I even calculated the force generated by a 200 ton locomotive hitting something at 60 mph. It's quite a small bomb, to be honest, compared to modern military ordnance.

Phagocytosis: The process by which a cell engulfs particles such as bacteria, other microorganisms, aged red blood cells, foreign matter, etc. Biliverdin, as the name suggests, is greenish, and the medical stuff is of course as accurate as I can get it in terms of how a bruise heals, only rather speeded up here.

The 505th Operations Group is based out of places like Nellis and appears to handle logistics and other non-combat stuff.

Yes, sunset in Las Vegas in July is around eight at night.

Lots of fun research for this chapter. I even looked up the etymology of "Brownie points" but it was inconclusive. A couple of important themes too, in Susan's interactions with Mary and with Monger. Not every mission is a rousing success. This may not improve her general disposition...


	19. The Gospel of Mary

**19. The Gospel of Mary**

"So. Save the day once more?" Link asked as Susan and Mary came back into the common room.

"Of course," Susan told him, sitting at her table for a late dinner. "What did you expect?"

"I dunno," Link said, scratching his neck. "I guess I kinda expected you to screw it up by derailing a train carrying nuclear waste in the middle of Las Vegas on live television."

"What?" Susan gasped, a spoonful of food halfway to her mouth. "You saw me?"

"It was on the news," Link told her with a grin. "ABC had a chopper in the air the minute they got a report you were at Nellis."

"Son of a bitch!" Susan swore, making a face. She had completely forgotten about the helicopter that had been hovering overhead as she stopped the train. She remembered how she had looked forward to some fresh news reports. Well, she'd be getting them all right, but they probably wouldn't be all that complimentary….

"They had some really funny jokes!" Bob told her happily. "I was laughing so much! Link was too, weren't you?"

Susan glared at the fish-ape. "Were you?"

Link carefully refused to meet her gaze, and looked fixedly at the floor. "Well… Maybe once or twice. They were pretty funny jokes, you know..." he finished lamely.

"Oh that's just fucking great," Susan fumed. "Now I'm a laughing stock?" She stormed off to her room, leaving the rest of her dinner, and threw herself down on her bed, half-hoping it would collapse and give her something to be even madder about. She lay there stewing for about quarter of an hour, then decided to see just how bad it was. Turning on her computer, she checked out some of the headlines. She was furious to see that Link was right, and in fact it looked like the ones making jokes were better than the ones blaming her for a potential radiation leak.

"After everything I've done, after getting the Medal of Freedom, this is what they do to me?" she fumed.

She clicked on a video from MSNBC with the headline "Giantess Destroys Train Carrying Nuclear Waste: Fears of leaks."

"The Army denies there was any leakage or any danger," the announcer was saying over footage of the crash. "However, sources have revealed that at least one of the containers did in fact show radiation leakage. Nevada Governor Brian Sandoval has called for an investigation into the use of Monster Force, which he claimed was not authorised by his office. In a statement released two hours ago, Governor Sandoval said that using an untrained creature like Ginormica could have serious consequences next time."

"Creature?" Susan gasped as the video cut to a shot of the Governor standing outside the red-brick Nevada Capitol in Carson City.

"We all respect what the giantess Ginormica has done for San Francisco and Modesto," the governor was saying. "However, there is no denying that in each case the collateral damage has been substantial. Her massive size means that this is almost inevitable, as her modus operandi is simply to overwhelm with sheer strength. We have been lucky this time. But next time? Are our citizens safe? Our cities? At what point will unleashing these monsters mean that the cure is worse than the disease?"

Furious, Susan stopped the video, and tried another, from CNN this time, and she was not at all surprised to see it was even more critical of her than MSNBC. It slammed the army as a whole, and Monger in particular. And her most of all. The Wolf News report, "Ginormica Catches the Train!", was a little more positive, to her surprise, focusing on her strength in lifting the locomotive and in carrying the castor container. There were a number of shots of her carrying the huge container on her shoulders, which she had to admit did look pretty impressive. Though she hadn't even noticed the film crew on her walk back to the base. However, the editorial stance they took was she had foiled a terrorist attack, and gave Susan the impression that Wolf News only saw her as a weapon, a tool to use to destroy America's enemies. It made her feel they didn't really see her as a person.

Susan sighed, and turned off her computer. Lying back down on her bed, she took down another Ginormibar from her shelf, and carefully peeled the wrapper back. But even chocolate wasn't helping her feel better. Why were they all so down on her? She had saved the day yet again. The train was going to derail and crash at some stage, surely? So how could they say she had made it worse? And there was no mention of Mary in any of the reports, to her surprise. Perhaps, she decided, as Mary wasn't the one that screwed up. Of course Mary had done everything perfectly, the little witch. Little Lady Mary was practically perfect in every way. While she, Susan Murphy, was an uncoordinated, stupid, blunt instrument of destruction….

* * *

Susan awoke with a start when the alarm went off. She had been having a strange dream about being in a prison guarded by a sadistic woman jailer, who looked like Mary but with blue eyes and white hair, and who sounded like Monger.

"God dammit, why can't I ever sleep in?" she asked the ceiling. "Sodding army!"

Muttering under her breath, she reluctantly sat up and swung her feet out of bed. The bruise on her thigh was looking a little smaller, and her back was no longer stinging. She felt behind her, and realised it was almost healed. Relieved, she checked her Facebook and emails. Her parents had apparently not found out about the Las Vegas debacle: Monger was clearly still controlling their internet access, for which Susan was grateful. Her mother's message did sound a little peeved, however, that they had still not been able to visit Susan in the underground base, so she resolved to visit them topside more often. Susan felt a little guilty about that. At least they never tried to make her feel bad about herself. Not like her so-called friends down here. Link was jealous of her, Cockroach was an inhuman monster, Bob was brainless, Monger was being all army on her, and Mary… She wasn't sure what to make of Mary. She still didn't like her, but she wasn't sure if she still hated her.

Susan headed off for her shower, still thinking. What was Mary's problem with her? Susan had a sudden idea. Could she be the reason Cockroach confessed to what he did? Was he trying to drive her away from him? Susan realised that he had been acting a little strange and distant ever since their swim together, in fact. Even before she found out about Nancy. She had put it down to shyness at their new level of intimacy, but what if it wasn't that? What if he simply didn't want to be intimate with her? After all, what could she offer him than Lady Mary Stewart, the daughter of an earl, could not? Nothing, Susan thought grimly, save the ability to derail locomotives and haul heavy loads. What attraction could that have for a sensitive intellectual like Cockroach? No, she decided. Cockroach and Mary could have each other. After all, they were both cold-blooded killers. What did she want to do with either of them? What did she want to do with any of them here, for that matter?

Feeling depressed and angry, she got dressed and sulkily walked out to the common room, where she took her normal seat and waited until the food was ready. She watched as Cockroach, Mary, Link, and Bob took their places around their table. Their small table, sitting on top of her dining area. Only it wasn't a small table. It was normal: it was hers that was freakish. It was she that was the freak.

Breakfast slid out, and she looked at it dully.

"Fuck. This. Shit," she swore. "I am so sick of this mush."

"We're sick of you complaining about it," Mary commented.

"Yeah? Well I'm sick of you," Susan snarled. Mary's eyes narrowed.

"Hey, Susan, what has got into you?" Link asked. "You've been snappy and moody for days. Is it that time of the month again?"

"Shut it, lizard-breath," Susan snapped. "I don't have those 'times of the month' any more. And I don't need you trying to be smart with me."

"Yeah, maybe. But seriously, you've been…not yourself. Ever since Mary got here. It's like you're burning with jealousy, and you're taking it out on the rest of us!" Link shot.

"It's not my fault! I'm not to blame! It's the vampire girl, the bitch who lit this flame!" Susan spat back.

"Nothing to do with me, child," Mary told her coldly. "Govern your temper!"

"Mary's right. It's your titanic ego," Link told her. "What the hell makes you think you're so special? That meteorite could have hit anyone on the entire planet. So don't go around acting like you are God's chosen one."

"Yeah," Bob agreed happily. "It dropped on your head, splat!" He jumped up and landed on the table with a loud squelch.

Susan grabbed the blue blob and flung him hard across the room.

"Again!" Bob cried as he bounced off the wall.

"The scaly green ape is right," Mary said sternly. "You never had to make the effort to become powerful. So you have not learned the required discipline to handle your power!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Susan asked angrily.

"You know why a field of study is called a discipline?" Mary asked rhetorically. "Because you learn discipline as you slowly get better. If you have everything handed to you on a plate, it's too easy. You have great power. No one doubts that. But power is nothing without control. Until you learn that control you will remain a brute."

"Oh be quiet you… you superfluous piece of self-love!"

"What on earth is that supposed to mean?" Mary asked, looking surprised.

"I don't know!" Susan cried. "You're narcissistic!"

"No, Susan," Cockroach told her firmly. "I'm afraid to say that it is you who are a bit narcissistic these days."

"Yeah, you're acting way weird," Link agreed. "You ain't normal, sister."

"No, I've been quite normal. Well, no, not normal, of course—I'm Ginormica, the Hero of San Francisco, Modesto, Rome, and now Vegas. Still, I guess for me, saving cities from disaster is normal. Like being useless is normal for you."

Link's dorsal fin flushed scarlet.

"Susan! That was uncalled for!" Cockroach gasped.

"Yeah, maybe," she admitted sullenly. "But you gotta admit, I've been the one doing all the heavy lifting when we fight the aliens."

"Lifting? You mean like a crane?" Bob asked happily.

Susan's face darkened. "Yeah. Like a fucking crane."

"Well, you're pretty damn arrogant for a piece of construction equipment," Link told her.

"Don't you fucking talk to me about ego!" Susan stormed. "You're the one who can't handle the fact that I'm bigger and stronger than you! What was the last time you did anything useful? Knocked out by the robot, sidelined in Rome. You can't compete me with and you know it! I'm the Superman in your Justice League of America," she snarled.

"Yeah? So if you're so great, how come all the news media are making you into a joke?" he shot back. "Everyone's laughing at the giant freak!"

Susan went white, and stared at the fish-ape. Suddenly she drew back her arm then swept it across the platform, smashing into the table and sending it flying. Link only just managed to jump clear in time. Susan grabbed the remains of the table, and threw them at him as he desperately dove into his pool. The table smashed against the far wall, and Susan stood up, her hands clenched into shaking fists.

"I hate you! I hate you all! I'm sick of all of this, all of you! You can all go to Hell! I wish I'd never been hit by the meteorite!" Susan shouted, and ran off to her room.

There was a stunned silence.

"Well, that didn't go all that well," Mary commented sardonically to no one in particular.

"I think you stepped over the boundaries there, Link," Cockroach observed as the green monster slunk back, dripping.

Link sighed. "Look, you know I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry. It's just that—how can anyone compete with her? What are we all even here for? Why am I still here? I could be on Coco Beach, idolized by bikini girls, living the dream life. A hero. Instead of a damned sidekick."

"We're here because we're a team: Team Monster," Cockroach told him sternly.

"Yeah? You'd think from listening to _her_ that it's more like Team Susan!" Link shot back. "Ah, screw this. I think I might talk with Monger soon about getting out of here. There ain't nothing for me to do here. Not any more."

He stalked away, still dripping, and went to work off his anger on his weights.

* * *

Susan sat on her bed, knees drawn up under her chin, staring at the wall. She was wondering how it had all gone wrong. After defeating Gallaxhar, she had felt like she could take on the world and win. Then the world had shown her how it treated heroes, those who dared to be special. With constant hounding, seeking to drag her down. Even her so-called friends were starting to treat her differently. Link, for example. Letting his jealousy stand between them. And as for Doc… Even apart from the time he was spending with the stuck-up English girl, she didn't know if she could ever look at him the same way again. He had been so warm, welcoming, supportive… And now she finally realized why he was considered dangerous. He was a truly mad scientist, and not the charming, cute sort who conjured up miracles from discarded pizza boxes and old printers either. The insane sort who drove young women, just like her, to seek death rather than subject themselves to his cruel experiments. Maybe he had changed. Maybe he was contrite. But Susan still didn't think she could ever trust him like she used to. And he had lied to her. That, she thought, was the worst of all. In the end, he had turned out to be no more trustworthy than Derek. The betrayal was like a physical pain in her heart, eating away at her.

Everyone was turning against her. She was isolated both physically, thanks to her size, and now emotionally. She no longer felt like she fitted in. But she had no choice: she was still a prisoner. Of her size, her power. Susan lowered her head on her arms and wept for the loss of her friendships, and for the loss of the ordinary joys of being normal. She just wanted to go home, to be hugged by her mother like she used to be, back when life was simple and happy and everyone liked her. And when she liked herself….

A knock on the door penetrated her depression. Susan looked up, hoping it was Cockroach, and at the same time hoping it was not.

"Go away, Doc," she called out quietly.

"It's Mary," came the vampire's high, childish voice.

Susan's heart sunk even deeper. Mary was just about the last person she wanted to see. "You go away too."

"No."

"I said go away!" Susan shouted, suddenly furious again. "I don't want to talk to anyone!"

"I don't really care," Mary told her. She pushed open the smaller door and stepped inside. "I'm not here to try and comfort you, or molly-coddle you like Cockroach might. Your tears won't work on me, child."

"So why are you here then?" Susan said with a glare.

"Because you are being a stuck-up bitch," Mary told her.

"What?" Susan gasped.

"You are," Mary said calmly. "And becoming more so. Even I've noticed it, just since I've been here. And from what Cockroach has told me, this is very much a new development."

"I suppose you and he have got quite intimate since you arrived," Susan said morosely.

Mary nodded. "In a sense. He's a fascinating man, once you get past the head, and his tendency to explode things."

"Well, I hope you two will be very happy together," Susan retorted.

"What on earth do you mean?"

"Nothing," Susan sulked.

"You don't think there's anything… romantic… going on between us? Oh, what a child you are," Mary sighed. "You still cling to foolish fantasies. The sooner you let them go and realise what the world, and people, are really like, the better."

"I do realise!" Susan shot back. "I got dumped by the man I loved and was going to marry!"

Mary rolled her eyes. "Join the club. At least yours didn't try and drive a stake through your heart."

"That happened to you?" Susan gasped.

Mary stared at her, her ice-blue eyes on fire. "Yes. Twice, before I learned my lesson and never allowed myself to be so vulnerable again."

"_That which does not kill me makes me stronger_," Susan quoted.

Mary looked at her in surprise. "You know Nietzsche? I'm impressed."

"I'm not just brawn, you know," Susan told her. "Doc's been teaching me quite a bit. I'm brains and brawn!"

"Well, why don't you try using more of the former and less of the latter?"

"Do you have to keep bringing up that train thing?" Susan asked petulantly.

Mary shook her head, and brushed a strand of black hair from her pale face. "I'm not talking about that," she said. "I'm talking about you realising how you're acting these days."

"Oh, not you too," Susan sighed.

"Yes, me. You need someone to give you some hard truths. And the truth is that you're conceited and selfish."

"Yeah? And you're sarcastic and arrogant, and never let anyone be nice to you!" Susan shot back, pouting.

"Yes, I am," Mary acknowledged with a slight nod. "And with good reason."

"What? Because you're the daughter of earls? A member of the aristocracy? Too good for us commoners?"

"No! Because I'm intelligent, educated, and cultured! And because... oh, never mind," Mary said sullenly.

"Never mind what?" Susan demanded. "Spit it out, sister!"

"Because I can never let anyone get too close!" Mary shot back. "It's self-defence! How'd you think people would treat me once they learned what I am? Do you know the hatred a vampire inspires? We're the world's most feared and loathed monsters!"

"Well, it's not been a picnic being a giant, either," Susan retorted. "You can at least go out and not have people constantly stare at you. Not me. Never be able to properly hug your loved ones again. Never be able to go shopping or wear cute clothes, like the ones you have on now. I think I've suffered more than you."

"You could have no possible idea about what I've been through!" Mary spat. She turned and glared at the beautiful giantess. "You sit there, all sweet and pretty, the whole world admiring you as a hero, and think that just because you can't wear cute dresses or hug your parents that you somehow have the right to feel sorry for yourself? What an unimaginably privileged life you must have had to think that!"

"And I suppose Lady Mary Stewart, the daughter of the Earl of Traquair, hasn't had a privileged life?" Susan retorted.

Mary froze and stared at her, her face even paler than normal. "You bitch!" she suddenly spat. "Nobody could be that stupid! A…a _privileged_ life?! This is why I hate you! You have not the remotest concept!"

"But—" Susan started to say. She was immediately cut off.

"Do you seriously think I've spent the last two centuries swanning around society as a perennial debutante? You don't think people would've thought it was odd how I managed to die, and still come back each year for the season? Are you that naïve? When I died, aged just thirteen, everything that Lady Mary Stewart could ever claim title to was lost. I was forced to make my own way from nothing, tossed out to live on the streets when I was barely into my teens!" Mary leaned closer, her face full of hate and anger. "You sit there, a twenty-first century girl with the freedom to do just about whatever you want, and judge me in your arrogance? Do you know what a lone young girl would have had to do to survive in England a few centuries ago? What I had to do?"

Susan shook her head nervously.

"I didn't think so," Mary said contemptuously. "Well, I could either marry, though that was hard enough with no background, and no way to conceal my true nature in such intimate quarters, or enter service as a maid, but only in a small household and assuming I could forge references, even assuming I could bear the working conditions, or… take advantage of my sex and apparent youth to part men from their money," she finished in a flat voice.

"You… you were a prostitute?" Susan gasped.

"I was a whore," Mary spat. "Because what other ways were there to survive for a single young girl with no family, no friends, no ability to live among others without being hunted as a demon? I went from being a daughter of one of the finest families in Britain to eking out a meagre existence as a cheap hooker on the back streets of London, living in slums where the best I could hope for was a dry place to sleep that wasn't infested with roaches."

Susan's lip trembled. "Oh, I'm so... so sorry…" she said, tears falling. "I didn't know…"

"I don't need your sympathy," Mary said in a quieter tone. "I survived. I lived for fifty years in rotting squalor, the most grinding, miserable poverty. I would have died if I weren't dead already; if I weren't able to feed by simply preying on others. And things got better, slowly. Very slowly. I watched as my freedoms were gradually, so very gradually expanded. After I saved up money, went to the university, found work as a governess; slowly, bit by bit, bettered my situation. But I had to fight for every single bloody step. And you! You were born in one of the richest, most advanced nations on earth, where you could be almost anything you wanted, do almost anything you wanted… I am so full of seething jealousy for all your privileges, for your soft, comfortable life… And so full of fury when you dismiss what you have, and consider yourself disadvantaged! You have no idea what that means. None! So don't sit there and expect any sympathy just because you can't go to the bloody mall any more!"

Susan was weeping. "No…I don't. I didn't know…. I shouldn't have been so mean to you…"

Mary sat back down, and sighed. "It's ancient history, anyway," she said softly. "I can't expect you to know just how vile a place England was for the disenfranchised urban poor in the Industrial Revolution. And you weren't mean to me. That's the problem. I was mean to you, because you were so infuriatingly full of self-pity, and also so infuriatingly friendly and welcoming. It's not… not something many have been to me. I… I don't know how to handle friendship. It's always ended badly for me. I slip up, and they see what I really am. Or, worse, I trust them too much, and they betray me…."

Susan bent down low, bringing her head down to Mary's height. "But you can trust us," she said. "We're all monsters in here. We all know what it is like to be hated and feared, outcasts. Perhaps not as much as you. I hope we never do. But we are on your side. We are your friends. We are your family. We trust you, even if you don't trust us."

"Trust is… very hard for me," Mary admitted quietly, not meeting her gaze.

Susan stretched out her arm, palm up. "Here," she said.

"You want me to get on?" the small vampire asked suspiciously.

Susan shook her head. "No. I want you to… feed. Fresh, from the source. To show that we… that I… trust you."

Mary stared up at her. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She found herself blinking back tears as she gazed into the huge, compassionate eyes of the giantess. As if in a dream, she moved over to Susan's huge wrist and gently sunk her sharp fangs into the soft flesh, sucking eagerly at the sweet life-giving fluid within.

.

* * *

**SOME COMMENTS**: Let's take these in order. The Gospel of Mary really is a thing; one of the apocrypha, and is about Mary Magdalene. While MM was not a prostitute, I have drawn on the traditional depictions of her as a reformed sinner [prostitute] for the title (that was another person, apparently).

Brian Sandoval is indeed the governor of Nevada. The Nevada Capitol is a red-brick building in Carson City, the capital of the state (no, it's not Las Vegas; it seems pretty common for state capitals to be more minor cities...).

Aside from that, there's not much fact-based stuff to comment on. Unless I wanted to go way into depth on a social history of England in the last two centuries... (I resisted the temptation to get into too much detail, as it is a conversation after all, not a lecture).Some of Mary's early life was inspired by some descriptions of the poorest of the poor in Engel's "Conditions of the Working Class in England," which are beyond appalling.

You should be glad to know that this basically marks the turning-point of Arrogant!Susan. It does not mean, however, that all is magically happy rainbows and unicorns again. The simmering tensions aren't going away that easily...

[posted 13 April 2013. Edited to change "England" to "Britain" since the Earls of Traquair were Scottish (plus other very minor changes)...]


	20. Mary Had a Little Plan

**20. Mary Had a Little Plan**

"I think we've created a monster," Cockroach noted dryly a few days later, seeing Susan and Mary head off to the giantess's room together yet again.

"You did? Where? Who?" Bob asked, looking wildly around. "Woah! I see him! He's all blue and blobby and see-through!"

"That's you, you nong," Link said. "You're looking into yourself. Again."

"Oh," Bob said, rotating his eyeball a hundred and eighty degrees so it faced outwards again.

"Damn, you are distracting," Link muttered, and returned to curling a heavy dumbbell. "Oh yeah, feel the burn! So what are you on about, Doc?"

"Susan and Mary," Cockroach told him. "They seem to be inseparable these days."

"Yeah, maybe, but at least Susan's not spending all her time trying to insult me," Link commented.

"True," Cockroach admitted. He fiddled with an old microscope housing that contained a small amount of dynamite, inserting some wires. "But I was hoping that she might have started to forgive me. She's barely said a word to me in days. I never see her."

"Give her a few more days," Link told him. "Then I'll give her a good talking-to. She can't snob us forever."

"And I'll say I'm sorry and beg her forgiveness!" Bob cried happily, looking at them both.

Link glared at him. "Are you kidding? What for? What makes you think I want to apologise?"

"No, that's me," Cockroach said sadly. "I want to beg forgiveness,,,"

"So why don't you?" the blue blob asked.

Cockroach sighed. "I have tried. But she is not yet ready to listen. Link's right. I'll give her a few more days. She does seem to have calmed down a bit, for which I have Mary to thank."

"Her Ladyship seems to be not quite as snobby, as well," Link noted.

"True," Cockroach mused. "But I'm a little worried about her, to be honest. She doesn't appear to be handling incarceration as well as I'd expected. When we talk, she's always going on about her old life, and how she misses London. I thought she'd get better as time went by. Instead she's getting worse…."

* * *

"You know, Cockroach had been asking about you a lot," Mary noted casually as the two of them watched another episode of Downton Abbey. Susan was rather amused by Mary's frequent comments during the programmes about how badly they had got it wrong. However the story of the maid who had been fired, and then turned to prostitution, had left the small vampire quiet and depressed for the rest of the day.

"Yeah, I know. He doesn't say much at meals, but I keep catching him looking up at me," Susan said. She lay down on her bed, and stared at the ceiling. "I'm sorry. It will take a while before I can look him in the eyes and not see a killer. And someone who deceived me. That's what I find so hard to forgive. He presented himself as this wonderfully kind and gentle man, and all the time he was… he was this cruel, sadistic monster."

"You know, people can change," Mary said. "You remember I was a killer as well."

"Well, it's not quite the same, is it?" Susan said. "You killed to eat, right?"

Mary pursed her lips. "Not entirely," she eventually admitted. "Sometimes the deaths were accidents, true. But sometimes… Sometimes they weren't."

"You…killed for fun?"

Mary shook her head. "I wouldn't call it fun, no. I killed from hatred, from anger at the world, at what I had become, and how people treated me." She sighed. "Sometimes I would be feeding on someone, and I would decide that they simply didn't deserve to live."

"What?" Susan gasped.

The pale vampire looked up at the giantess from her easy chair in front of Susan's giant computer screen. "Are you repulsed by me as well now? I wouldn't blame you."

Susan bit her lip. "It's not quite the same. I mean… that is, you're a vampire, so I… you know…"

"So you expected I would be a killer to begin with?"

Susan nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. So it's not really that big a shock."

"No, it's not like you were suddenly confronted with the bones of one of my many victims," Mary noted. "Especially one so similar to you. One who could have been…"

"A sister," Susan said sadly. "I sometimes look at the Doc, and can't help wonder how Nancy would have seen him. The fear she must have felt for him…. "

"Don't go down that route, Susan," Mary told her sternly. "Just don't. Ever. There are no answers down there—none. I know this."

"I suppose you would," Susan said, wiping her eyes. "You've probably been through quite a lot over the past two and half centuries."

"I've been through more than you can imagine," Mary told her. "More than I would hope you ever can imagine." She paused, looking up at Susan's heart-shaped face. "In a way, you remind me of me, back when I was a living being. You have the same sheltered, fragile innocence I once had. Please, don't ever let that innocence get replaced by bitter hatred, as I did. You can never get it back."

"I think I might already have lost it," Susan confessed.

Mary shook her head. "No, you haven't, don't worry. Because you have never killed anyone. The first time you kill… that's when everything changes. Everything," she finished in a hollow voice, trailing off and looking away.

There was a brief silence.

"You said you killed your doctor, didn't you?" Susan asked quietly. "Was he the first?"

Mary nodded. "It wasn't immediately after I died, however. I was still too scared then of what had happened to me. That was probably the hardest time…. I was suddenly all alone, three months shy of my fourteenth birthday. I woke up, the day after my funeral, inside the family vault, lying in a coffin."

"Oh my God," Susan breathed. "That must have been terrible!"

"It wasn't the best day I've had," Mary commented dryly. "Especially as the vault was locked. So I had terrifying visions of dying of thirst, locked away where no one else would ever find me."

"How did you get out?"

"Eventually, after I had spent more hours than I can remember shouting and screaming, then crying in utter despair when no one came, I remembered that my father had a paranoia about being buried alive, and kept a key on the inside just in case. The tricky thing was finding it: the vault was pitch black. I was so glad to get out of there. The night seemed so bright after the inky darkness of my tomb, so welcoming…. I remember how I ran back home, calling to my parents."

"They must have been glad to see you again," Susan suggested.

"No…" Mary whispered, choking back a sudden sob. "They knew what I was—knew better than I did. I was just a scared and confused child. But to them I was a monster, a vile undead creature of pure evil, the spawn of Satan. As far as they were concerned their daughter Mary was in Heaven, while I was just some foul demon animating her corpse. They drove me from the only home I had ever known, out into the bleak Scottish moors."

"That's horrible!" Susan exclaimed.

"I can't really blame them," Mary said. "They had been told by the priests what to believe, and so had I. There was a long time when I thought I was just a foul demon as well. That I was just being tormented with memories of being a child."

"You want a tissue?" Susan asked as Mary drew a deep breath, blinking back tears. She used one of her large tissues to blow her own nose, and wiped her eyes. Mary had suffered so much, it really made her own problems seem utterly trivial. How could she have ever thought her life as a giantess was so hard?

Mary shook her head. "I'll be all right. It was centuries ago. Ancient history…."

"Hey! I've got a great idea!" Susan said, jumping up. "This'll make you feel better! It always does when I feel down!"

"What is it?"

"It's butterfly time!"

"Butterfly time? What on earth do you mean?"

"Come on! I'll show you!" Susan opened her door and dashed out. Mary sighed and climbed down the access ladder to Susan's desk, then sprinted after the giantess.

* * *

Sitting at his desk, Cockroach heard Susan's footsteps, then the door to the common room hissed open. The tall white-haired giantess stepped in, with Lady Mary hot on her heels.

"Susan, we have officer training together today," Cockroach said quietly, hoping that this innocuous statement would at least get a response.

"Watch me not care," Susan shot back. "I'm sick of this stupid Officer Candidate School nonsense. Mary and I are going to play with Insecto. Tell Monger I'll be late."

"He won't like that," Cockroach called, but she was gone already. He sighed, and turned back to his experiment. "Hold still, Bob. This won't hurt a bit. There!"

A small piece of Bob's cytoplasmic matrix dropped into a test tube that already contained a mix of other substances. Cockroach added a pinch of uranium and some vanilla essence before stopping it up and giving it a vigorous shake. Then he carefully checked the purity of the fluid using a gas chromatograph he had built from an old air horn, an EZ-Bake oven, and some discarded syringes.

"Excellent," he said. "Well, bottoms up, old friend!" In two gulps, he finished the mixture. "Hmm. I feel… gassy…." Suddenly a loud roar made him almost drop the test tube.

"Woah Doc! That was an impressive burp! Do that again!" Bob called.

"That was Insecto, Bob," Cockroach told him, shaking his head. He put the test tube in a rack, and headed down the stairs to the main living platform. Through the glass he could see Susan clambering up Insecto's fur, and he was sure Mary wasn't far behind. She didn't spend nearly as much time with him as she used to, but he couldn't begrudge the vampire her burgeoning friendship with Susan. Of course she would want to be friends with Susan. Everyone did. Susan was such a warm, sweet, loving person, who when she smiled made the sun rise in the sky…. He sighed again, wishing that he could turn back time and get that Susan back.

"I'd have to turn it back a long time, however," he whispered to himself as he gazed out through the window, seeing Susan happy, laughing... without him….

* * *

"What's that song?" Susan asked as she entered her room after OCS training to find Mary sitting on her computer desk, playing a video on YouTube.

"I still can't get over the amazing things you can do with these computer devices," Mary said. "Being able to listen to any music you like, whenever you like…."

"Yeah, that's pretty cool, I guess," Susan admitted. "So what's this music? Is that bagpipes?"

"It's a lullaby from Scotland," Mary told her after a brief pause as the chorus finished. "A song about Bonnie Prince Charlie. It reminds me of home, as my family were Catholic and supported the Young Pretender."

"Did your mother sing this song to you?"

Mary shook her head. "It wasn't written until I was over a century old. But I was still brought up on tales of the slaughter at Culloden, of how the Stuarts would one day return to rule over Scotland. My family were big supporters of Prince Charlie. In fact, according to legend, the gates at the front of our estate will never be opened again until a Stuart once again sits on the throne."

"Stuarts? Any relation to you?" Susan asked. "No, wait, aren't they spelled differently?"

"Stuart with a 'u' is actually the Francophone spelling," Mary explained. "Mary Stewart, the famous Queen of Scots, went to France in 1548, and came back twelve years later as Mary Stuart. But no, we are not related. Aside from all being part of the very extensive Clan Stewart. Although I believe my great-great whatever grandmother was once queen to King James I of Scotland, and cousin to King Henry V. So in a sense I have royal blood in my veins." Mary looked at her pale arms, delicately laced with blue. "I've had a lot of different blood in my veins, come to think of it…"

Susan laughed. "I suppose you have. I only have plain old Irish peasant blood, I'm afraid. Our family was never remotely important."

"Ours started out quite powerful and influential in Scotland," Mary said, "but by my father's time we had been largely excluded from public office, thanks to being Catholic, and the estate was slowly falling into ruin. My father was a gambler and wasted money on mineral explorations, and so Charlie was forced to sell off part of the estate."

"Charlie?"

Mary nodded. "My baby brother. Ten years younger than me. He was the last Earl of Traquair. I am pleased to say he lived a long and happy life, at least. The life that was denied me." Mary sighed. "A pity he never married. The line ended with his death."

"Why didn't he marry?"

"He was what you modern people would term gay. Quite determinedly so. He thwarted his family's attempts to find him a wife by putting stinging nettles in the beds of his female admirers."

Susan laughed, and Mary joined her briefly. Then the small vampire fell silent. "They're all dead now," she sighed. "Dead and gone. The family line is extinct. I am the last of the Traquair Stewarts. The castle is now in the hands of some distant cousins. These days it's a tourist attraction, open to the general public. I visited about ten years ago, out of curiosity. Frankly it looks better now than it ever did in my childhood."

"Growing up in a castle… It must have been amazing," Susan breathed. "Like a fairytale princess."

Mary stopped the video as the song ended, and laughed. "I don't think you'd have liked it. I didn't. No, it's much better to be your own master, even if you're just a peasant. Better to be free and poor than rich and a slave. Better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven."

"Cockroach was telling me something about that a couple of weeks ago," Susan said slowly, trying to remember his discussion of literature. "What was it? Something about Paradise?"

"Milton's _Paradise Lost_," Mary informed her. "What Lucifer said as he was thrown into the pit for his failed rebellion."

Susan shuddered. "I think I'd prefer to remain in Heaven, thanks."

"Even if you have to serve, to remain at the whim of someone more powerful?" Mary asked.

"Definitely," Susan said.

"Really?" Mary arched an eyebrow slightly, and the faintest hint of a smile played about her lips. "Yet you were so rude about Monger forcing you to go to officer school."

"That's different!" Susan said.

"Oh? Is it?" Mary's eyebrow rose even higher.

"Yes! This place isn't Heaven!" Susan said emphatically. "Anything but!"

"Ah, are you sure about that? For someone like you, where else can you go? This is your sanctuary, your only home. You are kept safe, fed, housed, your every need catered for. It's Heaven for you, as everywhere else would be Hell. And all it cost you… was your freedom."

"That's not… not…" Susan began, then paused, her five-foot long hand stopped midway through a gesture. The giantess looked at it, turning it over and flexing her fingers, and her shoulders slumped. "Yeah, my freedom." She sighed. "But there's nothing I can do about it. I can't exactly rebel and try and take the place over, can I?"

"I wouldn't recommend it," Mary smiled. "it would end about as well as Lucifer's rebellion."

"So I'm stuck here anyway, then," Susan said. "You know, I used to complain that my old life was small and limited," she added with a frustrated sigh. "I sometimes think my new life is even more limited."

"In what sense?" Mary asked, with the air of a psychologist talking to a patient.

"Well, you know," Susan said with a vague gesture towards the room. "I can't go out easily, I can't do a lot of things—and I'm not talking about going to the mall or any of the selfish stuff. I'm talking about how I'm utterly dependent on the government and army. I remember that idiot reporter in Washington, asking me if I felt proud for not being dependent on a man. Ha! I'm utterly dependent on men! And women! It takes dozens, maybe hundreds, of people to look after me! No, I can't go to a mall—but what that means is that I can't buy things I need. I can't get my basic necessities. Everything has to be provided for me, by people who house me, clothe me, feed me. Like an animal in a zoo! Independent? What a joke! I can't really control my life at all."

"Few of us can, and never to the extent we imagine others can," Mary said slowly. "We see what limits us, but we cannot always see what limits others. For you, it's size. For others, for example, it's poverty. As a fifty-foot giant, you can't go to a shop and buy what you like because you literally can't fit in. The poor can fit in, but can't buy anything—they don't fit in, in that sense. So they stand outside, gazing at the happy, warm, wealthy people inside, their dirty faces expressionless save for the leaden blank-eyed stare of unexpectant want." The pale thin child looked away, but not before Susan caught a glimpse of a tear.

"That was you, wasn't it?" Susan whispered. "You were that poor girl, staring in from the outside at all the splendour you could no longer touch."

Mary nodded slowly. "Eventually I stopped even staring. What point was there to wishing I could live like I used to? The great glowing windows of the shops along Oxford Street or Regent Street just became lights to find my way home again, to my tiny hovel in the Spitalfields rookery."

"It's over now," Susan said, trying to comfort the ancient vampire.

"I know," Mary said. She sighed. "It was a long time ago, back in the Victorian era," she added in a stronger voice. "I have clawed my way out of that abyss, and am never going back. Never. But we're talking about you, not me. And you should not let yourself be limited by what you think handicaps you. We all have chains binding us, but there is always some way forwards, some way you can overcome your restrictions and grow. That's the single most important lesson I've learned over the past two centuries."

"Uh, yeah, I guess," Susan said, looking at Mary a little strangely. "I'm sorry, sometimes it seems a little weird to be, uh, hearing…"

"Hearing a thirteen year old girl spouting this sort of stuff? I'm used to that, don't worry." Mary gave a wide grin that showed her fangs. She ran her tongue around one, feeling its sharpness. "I learned to lie about my age a lot. My passport says I'm twenty-one, for example. That's the age I use on my forged birth certificates."

"I guess you couldn't use your real one, could you?" Susan asked with a laugh.

"I would love to, I really would," Mary said. "It's actually a remarkable hassle arranging false papers every decade or so as I fail to age appropriately. And it's increasingly annoying as the government requires more and more paperwork."

"I never really thought about that," Susan admitted. "One of the downsides of being immortal, I guess."

"Yes, but I'm not actually immortal," Mary reminded her. "The average lifespan of a vampire is around a thousand years."

"Did you… did you ever meet any others?"

"A few," Mary told her. "It's harder than you think. We don't have a secret handshake or anything. There aren't any vampire clubs we can go and hang out together. And all the so-called vampire websites I've seen on the Internet are pathetic goth girls who are only deluding themselves." Mary trailed off, her eyes unfocused and a small smile on her lips. "I actually went to meet one of those girls, about ten years ago. Figured I'd give her the scare of her life. She ended up scaring me. I still shudder at some of the things she was into. She really got off on me feeding on her. Wanted me to take it further and further, drain her more and more."

"Did you?" Susan asked.

"I would have, once. Just a few decades ago I'd have sucked her dry, leaving her idiotic corpse on the bed." She sighed. "It seems ever since I turned two hundred I've been re-evaluating my life. I'd call it a midlife crisis, except I'm already dead." Mary laughed. "Don't look like that! Every time I mention that I'm dead you get this look on your face."

"Sorry," Susan said. "It's just that I'm a little squeamish about death."

"Yeah, well, I kind of had to overcome that myself," Mary noted bitterly. "Not that I ever had any choice in the matter, of course."

"I suppose not. None of us did." Susan sighed. She looked at her hands again, curling her long, powerful fingers into fists.

"Didn't you want to take the quantonium back, however?" Mary countered. "You shot the containment sphere deliberately, right?"

"I guess," Susan agreed. "But it wasn't as if I had a lot of choice then either. For one thing, I was on a spaceship a few minutes away from blowing up, with no way to get out. Staying small would have meant certain death. And for another thing, it was the only way I could save my friends, who were trapped inside. No, there was no real choice then, either."

"Would you give it up now, if you could?" Mary asked, looking up at the giantess.

Susan's expressive face grew still for a moment, her eyes distant. "No, I don't think so," she eventually said. "Obviously it's not all good. There are downsides. I can't fit in with other people properly. But you showed me how silly and petty I was being about that. I guess I've tended to feel sorry for myself and not realise that other people—other monsters—might have things worse. Like you…"

Mary sighed. "I wish I could stop being a vampire," she said softly. "People want to kill me just for what I am. It's been hard to live in fear for so long. Especially at first. "

"I suppose I should be grateful I don't really understand what that would be like," Susan admitted.

Mary smiled. "You should. And I hope you never do."

"You don't have to here, you know," Susan told her. "You're safe here. No one will hurt you here. You have a home."

Mary looked around. "Safe, yes. A home? No. I'm sorry. It's still a prison. And I don't know how much longer I can cope with it."

"I don't think you have much choice," Susan noted.

"Remember what I told you? There's always a choice," Mary told her. "Somehow, I will get free."

"You're not going to try and escape are you?"

"I've been thinking about it, I admit. But how can I leave? We're in the middle of a desert, right?"

Susan nodded. "Yup. We can't go anywhere. Over a hundred miles of barren desert to Vegas."

Mary fell silent. "Vegas? I wonder…. Do you think Monger would let us have a day off?"

"Huh? You want to hit the slots?" Susan asked, surprised. "I never figured you for the gambling type."

"I'm not," Mary agreed. "But you and I could still have some fun there, you know."

"I dunno," Susan said slowly. "I'm not sure I want to go to a big city. It's just too much hassle getting around."

"Come on, don't you want to get away, away from the others? Just the two of us?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind a break, frankly," Susan said. "Might be good to spend a bit of time away from the others. I'll ask Monger about it. Sucks that I have to get permission to go anywhere. Makes me feel like a little kid again."

"Part of the problem with serving in Heaven," Mary commented.

"Yeah, well, when we get back I think I might—"

"When _you_ get back," Mary said in a soft voice.

"What? What did you say?" Susan asked, wondering why her friend was so quiet all of a sudden.

"I'm sorry, Susan. I really am. But when we go to Vegas, I'm… I'm not coming back. I told you, earlier. I'm sorry. I've spent too long being free."

"But… but… you can't!" Susan exclaimed. "I mean, what about Monger, the army? They'll hunt you down!"

"People have been hunting me for two centuries, Susan," Mary told her. "I know how to take care of myself. I just can't come back here. I can't. For me, it is indeed better to reign in Hell." Mary looked up at her friend. "Will you help me?"

"The hell with it, why not!" Susan said after a short pause. "Monger still owes me leave to go to Vegas, like he gave Link and Bob, and you can come along too. I'd love to see his face when he realises you're not coming back, that you've escaped—and Doc's that matter. He's been trying for years."

"That's the spirit!" Mary said happily. Her face turned serious. "Of course you realise that mongrel Monger will never let me out of here, right? Not even for a holiday."

"That's why I'm not going to tell him. I'll smuggle you out. You'll be gone before he even knows you're missing. I'm getting pretty damn sick of Mongrel—I mean Monger—and the army and all that. What are they gonna do if they catch us? Throw us in jail? Ha!"

Mary looked back at her, her face sad. "I… I just want you to know how much this means to me. No one has ever been this nice to me. Ever…"

"We're monsters," Susan whispered. "We look out for each other. Because no one else will."

"You realise you can't come with me," Mary told her quietly.

Susan's face fell. She sighed, and rested her head in her hands. "No, I can never leave my prison, can I? I can't…. But I damn well can help you leave!" she added, looking at Mary fiercely. "I don't care what Mongrel does to me—I'm getting you out of here!"

Mary smiled, showing her fangs. "There's definitely hope for you yet," she said, and laughed warmly.

...

* * *

**MANGLER'S NOTES**: Apologies for the delay. This chapter was not easy to write, and ended up getting too long so I have split it in two. Hopefully this means that the next chapter will be up sooner. Or maybe not, as the case may be... But I can guarantee this won't be one of those that never gets finished. In fact the very last paragraph is already written. I just have to fill in the blanks...

Officer Candidate School is what trains civilians and enlisted personnel in order for them to gain a commission as officers. Susan already has that, but lacks the training, so is being educated more rigorously following her screw up in Vegas, as suggested by Celestia's Paladin (I know pretty much nothing about army training apart from what I've seen in GI Jane and Starship Troopers, neither of which are helpful here).

One reason this chapter got away on me is that I found a lot of fun stuff on the Traquair Stewarts that I couldn't resist including, taking the chance to flesh out Mary's backstory a bit, and make her a bit more 3D. The song she's listening to, if it isn't obvious, is the _Skye Boat Song_, a very well-known Scottish folk song that is often sung as a lullaby (by my parents, for example...).

All facts about the Stewart family and their house are correct: the front gates, the Bear Gates, are indeed never to open until a Stuart sits on the throne again. Ancestral connections are as stated - I couldn't find any suggestion they were actually related to the House of Stuart, and since Stewart/Stuart is a common name, I didn't give them any. The family started out very powerful indeed, but they were Catholic, which kept them out of the circles of power later on, leading to diminished fortunes. The seventh earl was a gambler and wasted money on fruitless ventures, and the eighth was indeed forced to sell off part of the estate. While I am speculating about him actually being gay, the bit about the stinging nettles to scare away lady suitors is true, so it's not a huge stretch. And he died at age 81 after a long and hopefully happy life.

I have realised that "quantonium," like "plutonium" and "aluminium," should probably not be capitalised. Not a major issue, but I'm a bit anal that way...

The bit about the "leaden blank-eyed stare of unexpectant want" is based on George Eliot's _The Mill on the Floss_: "the homes where the hearth was not very warm, and where the food had little fragrance; where the human faces had had no sunshine in them, but rather the leaden, blank-eyed gaze of unexpectant want." A wonderful bit of imagery describing the poor.

Similarly, the term "abyss" was also used to describe the worst slums, or "rookeries" of London. See, for example, Jack London's (no relation) _The People of the Abyss_. Spitalfields was one of the most notorious of London slums.

Anyway, do please feel free to let me know what you think, and I'll try and get the next chapter up sooner...


	21. The Wages of Sin

**21. The Wages of Sin**

As dinner was nearing its end the next day, the presidential portrait slid open, and Monger flew in on his jetpack.

"General? What is it this time?" Cockroach asked. "Aliens? Robots?"

"Alien robots? Robot aliens?" Bob asked.

"None of the above," Monger told them. "Ginormica! Your leave has been approved! You are to report to Hanger Bay One at fifteen hundred hours tomorrow. You will arrive in Las Vegas at sixteen hundred, and have to report back to McCarran International Airport by twenty-three hundred. Don't be late!"

"Not overnight?" Susan asked. "I'm sure I could sleep in the convention centre or somewhere…"

Monger shook his head. "First, it's in use right now. Buncha Star Trek nerds or something dressing up in kiddie costumes. Hippie losers. Second, you have an OCS class the following morning, for which lateness will not be permitted. Or no more leave. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly, General," Susan said, tempted to tell him where he could stuff his leave. Then she thought of Mary, and of Monger's face when he found out he'd been tricked, and unclenched her fists. "Thank you, sir. I am most grateful."

"Ginormica, we have devised attachments for your new shoes to make walking safer. They will be fitted with detachable sets of flashing lights like police cars use."

"What?" Susan gasped. "Are you kidding me?"

"Would you prefer a full police escort?" Monger asked in a voice that indicated she had no choice anyway.

Susan sighed. "Oh very well. I am going to feel ridiculous, though…"

"Well, perhaps you won't feel as ridiculous in a new dress," Monger suggested.

"A new dress? Really?"

"Open Door Three," Monger ordered into his walkie-talkie. A large door slid open, and Susan gasped. Hanging from a beam was a long silver-white dress. She moved over to it, and ran the light soft fabric through her fingers.

"It's beautiful," she gasped. "How? Who?"

"It's a present from the Las Vegas Metro Chamber of Commerce. They, er, were a little more impressed with you than the Governor was," Monger admitted. "Probably since they didn't have to pay for the cleanup operation. At any rate, it's, um, long enough to ensure your, ah, modesty is retained," he added, going a little pink.

"You mean people can't look up my skirt," Susan said, smiling. She slipped it off the hanger, and held it up to her body. "How does it look?"

"Very elegant," Mary said. "Go and try it on."

"Great idea!" Susan dashed off to her room, and in a few minutes was back again. Cockroach's eyes bugged out. She looked stunning. The long close-fitting silver-white gown set off her hair to perfection, and made her look even taller. It was strapless, accentuating her generous bust, and closely followed the smooth curves of her waist and hips, flaring out gently below the knee to end a bit above her ankles. He had never imagined she could look so beautiful. So like a perfect, fairytale princess. But an untouchable one, who despised him as the monster he was….

"I love you! Will you marry me?" Bob called. Cockroach glanced over at Susan to see if she reacted, as he knew very well that those were not the blue blob's own thoughts. Not at all. But to his relief, she just laughed.

"It's not a wedding dress, silly!"

"But, but! If you get married, do you get cake and balloons?" Bob asked.

"Cake, but no balloons," Link told him. He looked up at Susan. "Yeah, not bad, but I still prefer bikinis," he commented. "When are you going to get a bikini?"

"Why don't you send one from Coco Beach?" Susan snapped. "I can't believe you!"

"Yeah, well, we've had this argument before," Link said. "Deal with it."

"You deal with it. You're the one who's leaving."

"Perhaps you should just apologise to Link," Cockroach suggested, trying to pour oil on troubled waters.

"Apologise? You're a fine one to demand apologies! When you've apologised to Nancy, I might think about it!"

Susan stalked off back to her room, hitting the open button so hard she cracked it. She hadn't meant to snap at Cockroach quite so hard. She was trying to reconcile her images of him, but it was still not easy. If only it hadn't been another giantess, she thought. Or if only her skeleton hadn't been left out there like some lab specimen. If only it didn't feel so personal…. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down.

There was a knock at the door.

"Susan?"

"Hey Mary. Come on in," Susan said, peeling off the dress.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just a little pissed off, that's all. Not with you, though."

"Nice to know," Mary said with a smile.

There was nowhere to hang the dress, so Susan folded it neatly and laid it on her bed. Slipping on the shorts and tank top she had acquired in Italy, she sat down on the bed. She held out her hand for Mary to climb on, and lifted the vampire up to her computer desk.

"Okay, now for the details," Mary said, lying down on the sofa by the computer as Susan rested her elbow on the desk, cradling her head. "You said you had an idea about how to smuggle me out?"

"Yeah, I do. I've asked Monger for a large white or grey suitcase with a chain that I can use as a purse," Susan explained. "You should be small enough to fit in it for a few hours."

Mary made a slight face. "If I must," she sighed. "Sorry, this isn't about your plan. I'm just a little claustrophobic. One reason I don't like this prison much."

"I thought these rooms were pretty big, though," Susan commented, looking a little surprised.

"They are," Mary admitted. "But the whole underground, windowless thing doesn't do a lot for me, you understand. Pretty ironic, considering that vampires are supposed to love coffins."

Susan laughed. "Yes, I remember you complaining how Monger made you sleep in one."

"With the lid off, I assure you," Mary said dryly, smiling. "Anyway, don't worry about me. If I have to spent a couple of hours shut up in a large suitcase to escape, then I will."

* * *

"Well, do you think I look ready to hit the Strip?" Susan asked after lunch the following day, twirling in her new dress.

"You look awesome," Mary assured her. "You're going to turn heads all right."

Susan laughed. "I generally do! Come on, we have to get going. You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Mary said. "I've got a bag with stuff I might need, including a hat and sunglasses Cockroach acquired for me. I've got the cash you loaned me—"

"Gave you," Susan interrupted.

"Loaned me," Mary repeated deliberately. "Because I will see you again—you aren't getting rid of me that easily."

"Yeah, I guess not," Susan agreed, trying to project a happiness she didn't really feel. While she understood and sympathised, she nevertheless desperately wished Mary wasn't so eager to leave. But she also knew that as long as her friend needed her help, she would give it. And she was also very much relishing the look on both Cockroach and Monger's faces when they found out that she, of all people, had successfully engineered an escape from the Monster Containment Facility….

Mary climbed in the large suitcase, her tiny frame fitting in easily. She took a deep breath.

"Okay, I'm ready. Close it."

"I'll let you out as soon as I can. It won't be more than a couple of hours, tops," Susan told her.

"Believe me, I really look forward to it," Mary noted with a wry smile.

"See ya in Vegas!" Susan said as she carefully shut the lid. She then gently picked it up, and carried it in her hand like a small purse as she headed to Hanger Bay One.

"Ginormica! You're late!" the General shouted as the giantess entered the cavernous underground chamber where MF-1 was parked.

Susan saluted. "Sorry, sir. You know how it is, getting ready for a night on the town."

"No. I don't. Haven't had a night on the town in thirty-seven years! And Major, you were half an hour late for Military Tactics yesterday!"

"Sorry, sir, I was hanging out with-"

Monger cut her off. "This is the fourth time you've been late. If you're late to another OCS class I'll start cutting your television quota!"

"Yes, sir," Susan said, barely keeping her voice civil. "But those lessons on how to be an officer are so dull."

"Not as dull as going without television," he informed her. "I told you: after your performance in Las Vegas, you need to learn more about being in the army!"

Susan made a face. "Yes, sir," she muttered sullenly. "I will."

"Mind that you do. Now get on board. Remember, be at McCarran by twenty-three hundred!"

"What happens if I'm late, General?" Susan asked.

"I'll make you walk back, across more than a hundred miles of desert! Would you like that?"

"Of course not, sir," Susan said with a slight bow. "I was just asking. I wouldn't dream of being late."

"Excellent," Monger said, his hard face softening slightly. "Anyway, you enjoy your day off. You sure you'll be fine on your own?"

"Perfectly, thanks," Susan said, and saluted as the general drove off.

* * *

It was a short flight to Las Vegas, and they arrived at McCarran on a clear, sunny day. Susan climbed out, and smoothed down her dress.

"Remember, Major," the captain told her. "Departure is at twenty-three hundred, on the dot! Please stand still with your feet together while we attach the safety lights to your shoes."

Susan did so with barely concealed patience as crew members quickly fastened sets of flashing lights to her pumps. She resolved to get rid of them at the earliest possible convenience. _As if traffic wouldn't notice a fifty-foot woman in the middle of the street_, Susan thought to herself with annoyance. She saluted the crew, and headed off to the edge of the airport, where she checked the road for traffic, and stepped carefully over the boundary fence onto Las Vegas Boulevard. Then she turned right, and headed into the central area. The cars kept a respectful distance, and many of them honked their horns in salute. Susan waved at a few, but kept her eyes on the road.

Once she was out of sight of the plane, she ducked down beside the Maverick Helicopters office building, and carefully opened the lid of her suitcase purse.

"Oh thank god!" Mary gasped, sitting up and taking deep breaths. "I felt like I was about to choke in there!"

"I thought you didn't need to breathe," Susan asked, confused. "I'd have poked an air hole, otherwise."

"No, no, it wasn't that, don't worry" Mary assured her. "It was just my problem with enclosed spaces. I'll be fine."

"How's the sunlight?" Susan asked as Mary blinked, shading her eyes.

"Not pleasant, but I'll cope, don't worry," the vampire said with a smile, putting on a broad-brimmed sunhat and a pair of oversized sunglasses. "I'm just glad to be out of that prison."

"Cool. Let me just get rid of these idiotic flashing lights. Like I need to look even more bizarre."

Mary glanced down, and laughed. "Yes, rather tasteless. Liberace would like those."

"Who?

"A singer famous for insanely flamboyant and tacky costumes. Bit before your time, though."

"Yeah, probably," Susan said, carefully placing the light sets next to a dumpster. "That's better. I may have to accept everyone looking at me, but I don't want them laughing at me."

"All ready?" Mary asked, settling herself on Susan's palm.

"All ready! Sin City, here we come!" Susan cried with a grin, and headed carefully up the road. She found it easier to walk on the pedestrian paths beside the road, as they had a lot less traffic.

They hadn't gone very far at all when Susan suddenly stopped.

"What is it?" Mary asked.

"Look! That's the sign that's in all the photos!" Susan exclaimed, pointing.

"Now that you mention it, it does look familiar," Mary admitted. "_Welcome to fabulous Las Vegas_. Fabulous? Well, that remains to be seen..."

"It's smaller than it looks in photos," Susan commented. She carefully made her way to the central divider where the iconic sign stood, and crouched down to get closer to eye level. The tourists immediately gathered around her, gaping up in awe.

"Ginormica! Yeah baby!"

"You're the best!"

"Go girl power!"

"Quick Jim! Get a photo of me with her!"

"La géante! Dépèche toi!"

"Sugee! Mecha dekai!"

Flashes went off around Susan, and Mary shaded her eyes.

"Ye gods, they love you here, don't they?" the vampire commented.

"Yeah, it's nice to know I still have fans," Susan commented with a big grin, standing up again. "Enjoy your stay in Vegas!" she called down to the tourists, waving a goodbye as they cheered and shouted.

"So, are we headed anywhere in particular?" Mary asked as Susan ducked under some overhead wires.

"I thought we might, you know, stroll up the Strip, admire the fancy buildings. And the weird people. There's a couple of outdoor shows, like at Treasure Island and the Mirage, and the Bellagio Fountains to check out. Then we can take a look at the Fremont Experience when it gets dark. And I want to try one of these buffet restaurants."

"All you can eat? I should imagine they would quail when they saw you coming," Mary said with a laugh. "But how can you fit inside?"

"I won't. I'll ask them to bring it to me outdoors," Susan said. "I asked Monger to book me in at the Bellagio buffet for seven. That means we'll be in the shade," she added.

"That's really considerate of you," Mary said happily, adjusting her hat. "Though they won't have much to my tastes, of course."

"I know," Susan said. "I thought… I thought you might have your own buffet of me."

Mary looked up at her. "You sure you don't mind?" she asked quietly.

Susan shook her head. "Of course not. We're friends, aren't we?"

"Friends…" Mary said softly. "I haven't had many people I can call that."

"You do now," Susan said firmly.

"And I'm not going to forget it," Mary added.

* * *

"Oh my god! It's her!"

"Move! Out of the way!"

"Let her through!"

"Hey, make room for Ginormica!"

"Look, honey! It's Susan! From the news!"

"Woah, look at the size of her!"

"Totally awesome, dude!"

"Sorry, guys! Excuse me!" Susan called down as she gingerly made her way along the roadside path by the Bellagio Fountains.

"Wow, this is awkward," Mary commented from her perch on Susan's hand. "So what are we here for?"

"The fountains here are pretty famous," Susan told her, finding a space to stand between two trees. She knelt down to sign an autograph or two, and smiled as her photo was taken.

"At least we get a good view," Mary noted. "As a girl who stands barely four foot eleven inches, I certainly appreciate that."

Susan laughed. "I used to be five-six, so a bit above average for women, but now… Yeah. Seeing over people's heads is not a problem…."

"Listen, there's music," Mary told her.

"Yeah, I think they're starting," Susan added. Music could be heard from hidden speakers, and there was a small cheer when the first sprays started up. The show only lasted about five minutes, but Susan found it pleasantly calming.

"So, what did you think?" she asked Mary as the crowd began to disperse.

"When I was a child, unless you had a convenient hill, having even a single fountain was an inordinate display of wealth," Mary remarked. "This display for the common folk is more impressive than anything in the gardens of the kings of Europe."

"I suppose so," Susan admitted. "I saw a few nice ones in Rome, like the Trevi, but none quite as big."

"Mind you, sheer size isn't everything," Mary noted, gazing up at her fifty-foot friend with a smile.

"It's a lot, however," Susan grinned.

Mary laughed. "Aye, it's a lot."

* * *

A few hours later Susan was feeling a little footsore. Her new shoes were very nice, but not as comfortable as her normal Converse sneakers, and she had been on her feet the entire time as they strolled up the Strip, checking out the outdoor shows at the Mirage and Treasure Island, signing autographs, meeting fans, and just talking with Mary. So it was with relief that she settled down on a huge pile of cushions in a wide cleared area of the Bellagio's pool area, where a makeshift dining area had been set up for her.

"We are honoured to have you here, Ginormica," the hotel manager assured her as he directed a number of employees to lay out a number of moistened beach towels. Susan took one and gently patted her forehead. It was a rather warm day, and the sun had been pretty strong. However it was evening now, the sun low, and quite pleasantly cool in the shade.

"Thanks, Mr, uh…"

"Stocker, Abraham Stocker, Executive Director of Hotel Operations. It is our pleasure. But we weren't expecting another guest…" He trailed off, looking at Mary curiously.

"Last-minute change, sorry," Susan said a little nervously. "But don't worry, she won't eat anything."

"Oh, but of course she should! She's perfectly welcome!"

"Thanks, but I rather doubt you'd have anything I could stomach," Mary told him with a slight smile.

Stocker raised an elegant eyebrow. "The Buffet at the Bellagio prides itself on being one of the finest buffets on the Strip, if not _the_ finest. I am sure we can manage something to your tastes."

"I'm sure your food is excellent, sir. But unless you can manage fresh human blood, I am afraid I would not be able to stomach it," Mary said, baring her fangs.

The manager blanched, and looked up at Susan.

"Yes, she's another monster," Susan told him. "A vampire, in fact."

"Large as life and twice as natural," Mary noted dryly. "So, any human blood in the larder? Or are you offering a personal service?" she added with a grin, licking her fangs.

"Uh, I, that is… uh, I do apologise, ma'am…. I…"

Mary laughed. "Relax, I was only joking. I'll be fine. You can get me some water, if you like. Plain tap water, please."

"Of…of course," Stocker stammered, backing away nervously as Mary laughed.

"He really was freaked out by you," Susan noted.

The vampire nodded. "They always are. You get used to it…."

"Really?"

There was a brief pause. "No, not really," Mary sighed.

* * *

"You sure you don't want to try this steak?" Susan asked a little later, chewing on a slab of tender Kobe beef. "It's blood rare."

"I can't," Mary said sadly. "I literally cannot digest anything other than human blood."

"So what happens if you try?" Susan asked curiously.

"I regurgitate it," Mary told her with a slight smile. "It's not a pretty sight. Want a demonstration?"

Susan laughed. "No, I don't think that will be necessary, thank you."

"You know, when you wake up as a vampire, you don't have some sort of sudden awareness of what you are," Mary said in a distant voice. "Maybe these days, with all the stories and films, I might have understood what had happened to me. But back then, all I knew was that I suddenly had fangs for some reason. No matter what I ate, I couldn't keep it down, and I grew hungrier and hungrier. It was about a week of starvation before I realised that I needed blood to live."

"How… how did you find out?" Susan asked, not sure if she really wanted to know.

"There was an accident one night," Mary said slowly. "A carriage had overturned on a country road near where I—that is, my family—lived, and a man was calling for help. I rushed over, and saw that he was bleeding badly. I don't really remember what prompted it, what compelled me, but before I knew what I was doing, I had moved over to him, and started sucking at his wound, lapping up the blood."

"Urgh," Susan shuddered. "Sorry."

"Don't worry; he didn't like it much either," Mary noted with a wry grin. "He shouted and cursed, and entreated God to save him. I remember how he desperately tried to push me away once he realised what I was doing. But he was pinned under the carriage, and I found even starved I was easily strong enough to subdue him. I drank deep, with such a thirst as I had never known. His blood tasted richer, sweeter than anything I had ever had before. I drank and drank until I could drink no more. And the man died," she ended matter-of-factly.

"My God," Susan breathed. "Was that your…?"

"My first murder, yes. My doctor, if you remember. Ironically, he had tried to cure me by blood-letting. In a way, I suppose he did—only it was his blood that had to be let…." Mary laughed, and Susan shuddered.

"Sorry," the giantess apologised again.

"Don't worry about it. I know it's not a pleasant story," Mary said. She paused, and her eyes grew unfocused. "Oh, but I wish you could experience what it is like for a vampire to drink real blood, fresh from the source. And freely offered, from someone I could never drain no matter how much I drank…." She sighed, and looked up at her friend. "I'll be honest, I'll miss being able to suck on your juices," she added with a grin.

Susan laughed briefly, then sighed. "I know why you have to leave, but, you know…. I wish you could stay," she said sadly. "I'm going to be so lonely when you're gone."

"You have friends at the base, Susan," the child-like vampire reassured her. "Cockroach, Link, Bob, and Insectosaurus."

Susan made a face. "Yeah, well, at the moment I'm still not speaking to Doc and Link, Bob's brainless, and Insecto is all nice and cuddly, but I can't really talk to her, can I? Right now you're the only one I can talk to. And if you leave…" She wiped a tear from her eye.

"I'll still be around," Mary reassured her. "Since I'm stuck in the States, with no way to get home until I can scrounge up some new fake IDs, I won't be far. We'll see each other again, don't worry."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Susan said. "You could always move to Modesto, and I could visit you when I visit my parents."

"Modesto?" Mary asked, raising an eyebrow. "Not really my style. I was thinking more along the lines of San Francisco, myself."

"Ah well, that's not too far," Susan agreed. "Hey, why don't you get a Facebook account, and we can stay in contact that way?"

"I suppose I could, yes," Mary agreed.

"I wish I could go with you," Susan sighed. Sometimes I wish I could get out and live somewhere else, like you. Or like Link, the little green snot. I can't believe he's going to leave us!"

"Look, don't take what Link said too seriously," Mary told her firmly. "He's not going to leave."

"You reckon? Monger told me Link had talked with him about going back to Coco Beach," Susan pointed out.

"For a holiday, that's all. He'd never leave permanently. Do you really think he'd leave Insectosaurus?"

"Ah. I hadn't thought about her," Susan admitted. "No, I suppose not. But… so why'd he tell me he was?"

"To hurt you," Mary said bluntly. She held up a hand to forestall Susan's outburst of swearing. "He wanted to hurt you, because you hurt him so badly. No, it wasn't what you said. He can take mere insults. What really hurt was that you were right: you are stronger and more powerful than him. He's been the… jock, I believe is the term you Americans use… for so long that it's how he identifies himself. Then you come and take that all away. That leaves him with nothing. So he lashed out."

"And I'm supposed to just take it?" Susan asked.

"Yes," Mary told her firmly. "You are. It's bad enough that you, er, out-monster him. You don't need to rub his nose in it. One thing you learn about being a member of the aristocracy is something called _noblesse oblige_: privilege entails responsibility. We must not abuse our power. You must be bigger than him. And not just literally."

Susan sighed. "I suppose you're right. I'll apologise to him when we get back. Wish I didn't have to go back. I'd prefer to go with you."

"For what it's worth. so would I, Susan. We could have some fun together, out there, you and I. The Vampire and the Giant, fighting aliens and defending the Earth!"

Susan grinned. "Yeah, we'd make a good team… So long as I didn't try and catch any more trains!"

Mary laughed. "True, that was not your finest hour. But still, it was the first time we ever talked together, just the two of us, so… so it's... it's something I'll treasure…" she ended, blinking back tears.

Susan wrapped her fingers around her friend, and gave her a gentle squeeze.

"I'll miss you too, you know. It'll be a bit lonely back in the facility. Even if we were all getting along, it's nice to have another girl to talk to sometimes."

"I know it's not perfect, but for you, it's really your only home," Mary said gently.

"Sometimes I think about that, and I just want to break down in tears," Susan confessed. "I try to be strong, like you taught me; I try to remember that I actually have it pretty good there, but still, sometimes… especially lately…. When I don't have that many friends there…" she trailed off, idly stirring her container of Coke and trying not to weep.

"The mind is its own place, and of itself, creates a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven…." Mary told her.

"That sounds pretty cool," Susan admitted. "What does it mean?"

"It means that even if you don't like where you are, you have the power to remake it in your own mind. Focus on the good, not the bad."

"So, basically, home sweet home, then?" Susan smiled.

"In a sense," Mary said. "Home is where the heart is, to be more precise. So where is your heart?"

_My heart_…. Susan had a sudden image of Cockroach, standing on the shore of the lake near the base, his hard bronzed torso gleaming in the sun, his large amber eyes full of kindness and love. Then she remembered her nightmares of Nancy's torture, and the pale white bones lying in the cold darkness, and shuddered.

* * *

"By Pershing's missile! Where in the seven hells is she?" Monger's bellowing voice suddenly filled the common room as the short general flew in.

"Who? Susan?" Link asked, annoyed to be interrupted from his card game with Bob. It was a lot harder to win without Insecto helping him cheat, and he needed to concentrate.

Monger skidded to a halt on the living platform. His face was red, and he was shaking with fury. "Vampiretta! She's gone!"

"Gone? You sure?"

"Course I'm damn well sure!"

"Did you check under the sofa?" Bob offered helpfully. "Because when I lose things, that's where I find them."

"One more quip out of you and I'll mail you to Alaska, third class!" Monger roared. "Ginormica! I don't believe it! That really ticks my clock!"

"I thought you said Mary—I mean Vampirella—was missing," Link said, looking confused.

"Ginormica took her, dolt! Doc! DOC! Get yer mutated insect keister out here!" Monger bellowed. "Goddam! Fifty years without a single escape, and now this! Nobody absquatulates on my watch! If I find any of you had anything to do with this I'll put you all in solitary for a month!"

"General? What is—ulp," Cockroach stammered, catching sight of the general's livid features.

"Vampirella has escaped!"

"That's impossible! Even I couldn't do it!" Cockroach gasped.

"It clearly is not impossible. She's gone," Monger growled.

"Well I'll be hornswoggled! Clever girl! Uh, I mean, how?" he added, not meeting Monger's furious glare.

"She must have been smuggled out of the base by Ginormica! Dammit, I knew I should have strip-searched her! They are both in a whole heap of trouble! Uncle Sam doesn't like it when you go AWOL!"

"Are you Uncle Sam?" Bob asked happily. "I never knew your name was Sam! Hi, Sam! I'm Bob!"

"Somebody… shut him the HELL up!" Monger yelled. "Cockroach, did you hear Vampirella say anything, anything at all, about a desire to escape?"

Cockroach's antennae twitched nervously. "Well, not as such, I mean, that is to say, she…."

"Yes?"

"Well, she did say she wanted to escape," Cockroach admitted. "But that was all of us. We've all wished that at various times."

"And Ginormica! What in name of Dante's Inferno is she thinking? What could have possessed her to do this? Why in tarnation would she want to do this?"

Cockroach immediately looked hard at the floor, his antennae drooping. "Well, maybe…. She, er, well… that is to say, we've had a few interpersonal issues, of a, er, personal nature."

"Yeah, I guess we've been acting a bit like bastards," Link admitted quietly. "But only as she was being such a bitch," he hastily added.

"Well, now you've driven her to aid and abet an escape from lawful custody. They've both broken the law. Goddam it, Ginormica, what the hell were you thinking?" the general added, smashing his fist on the table.

"I suspect a lot of us haven't been thinking right," Cockroach offered quietly. "I know I haven't. I was too scared to do anything, and just let the situation simmer. I never dreamed it would boil over."

"We're going after them," Monger told the monsters. "Be ready to leave in half an hour. In the meantime, I've let the governor's office know, and they're going to get the sheriff's department on them. At least we shouldn't have a problem tracking them down…"

.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** I ended up chopping this chapter into two as it was over 8,000 words. I probably could have been better at cutting it shorter, but I really like writing Mary and Susan scenes, so indulged a bit. Also it's nice to write Susan as happy and sweet again. She's not going to be too happy very soon, so I let her enjoy it while it lasts...

Any facts behind the fiction of interest? Susan's got a nice new dress, c/o the very real Las Vegas Metro Chamber of Commerce. McCarran's the main Vegas airport, and is right by the main road that leads into the Las Vegas Strip. So all Susan needs to do is hop the fence. The first building I think she could duck behind is the Maverick Helicopters offices (I love Google Street View: I used it a LOT in writing this section of the story, planning out precise routes, where action would happen, where the wires and bridges were...).

Liberace died in 1987, so since Susan was born in 1989 (she's 22 in 2012, and turning 23 in November, I have decided, so that makes her born in 1989) she is well after his time.

The Las Vegas sign is that famous trapezoid one, on Las Vegas Boulevard before you get into the main hotels area. The last two lines spoken are French and Japanese, and mean "The giantess! Hurry up!" (I hope) and "Woah! She's immense!".

The free shows are basically as presented. I've only seen the Bellagio Fountains myself, and only part of that anyway. But the main reason they aren't done in detail is because it wouldn't really add anything. I kept the real conversation for the dinner.

The title "Executive Director of Hotel Operations" is accurate for the Bellagio, but I have changed the guy's name. "Abraham Stocker" is a play on "Brahm Stoker," since we do after all have a vampire with us...

"Large as life and twice as natural" is from Alice Through the Looking Glass, and refers, ironically, to Alice herself: "'I always thought they were fabulous monsters!' said the Unicorn", referring to "children."

"Absquatulates" is an obscure word made up in the US in the 19th century: "In the 19th century, the vibrant energy of American English appeared in the use of Latin affixes to create jocular pseudo-Latin "learned" words. There is a precedent for this in the language of Shakespeare, whose plays contain scores of made-up Latinate words." It means "To depart in a hurry; abscond." I thought it sounded funny, so used it. "Hornswoggled" is another similar silly word, though less obscure.

I love writing Mary's back story...

Well, we've hit 100,000 words. And since I had to chop the chapter in two, Chapter 22 should be up by the weekend. I've had some free time, so Ch. 23 is largely done as well.

[Posted 25 April 2013]

[ETA: Dammit, there were some snafus on this - a missing word and an incorrect word. Those have been corrected - "Large and life and twice as natural" should be "Large as life and twice as natural." What was I thinking?]


	22. Sacrifice of Angels

**22. Sacrifice of Angels**

"You really like the children, don't you?" Mary commented after Susan had signed yet another autograph for an excited little girl as they were leaving the Freemont Street Experience. Susan had found it rather cool, with all the lights and music, but she had quickly realised that Mary was not so fond of it, and they had left early. Nor was Susan that happy about all the attention she got.

"I suppose I do," Susan admitted. "I just love it when they aren't scared of me. I wouldn't ever want a child to be scared of me, just because I'm, well, a giant."

"Like Amy?"

"Yes, like Amy," Susan said with a slight sigh. "I'm so glad that ended well."

"She's a nice, polite child," Mary admitted as they headed back down the Strip. "I enjoyed that dinner with her and your parents."

"So did I," Susan said, thinking back to that evening a couple of nights ago when the five of them had had a barbeque in the back yard. "I like hanging out with Amy. I wish I could do it more often…. I wish… I could have my own child…."

"There are major sacrifices with being a vampire," Mary said quietly. "One is never having children. This is something we share."

"True," Susan said with a deep sigh. She looked over at her small friend. "Did you ever want any?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest," Mary replied. "I'd been brought up with the expectation that I would eventually marry some other noble and give him heirs. My own wishes in the matter were never even considered—I never considered it was anything I should have any say in."

"That's awful," Susan said, looking shocked.

"That was how things were back then," Mary told her with a shrug. "We didn't see it as that awful, as we couldn't really conceive of any alternative. Daughters of earls were for marrying off. Sons were for providing heirs. That was all children were for. The family line…. But yes," she sighed. "In some ways, I would have liked a wee child."

"I don't think my experience is that much different," Susan said slowly. "I mean, we weren't earls or anything, and there wasn't such an obsession with the family line, but it was still sort of expected that I would want children. Derek wanted children of course."

"Did you?"

Susan nodded, biting her lip. "I did. It wasn't just that Derek wanted them, or my parents wanting grandchildren."

"Or social conditioning? The idea that women are supposed to bear children?"

Susan shook her head, blinking back a stray tear or two. "No. I... I still genuinely want to have children. And now I never can. I know, I know, there are worse things that can happen, and God knows there are plenty of normal people out there who can't have children either. So I try not to let it get me down. My life is pretty good, really. You helped me see that, when I was being too full of myself and my ego was getting a little out of hand."

"Just a little, yes," Mary said with a grin that showed her fangs. "That's what we call British understatement, by the way…"

Susan laughed. "I used to think that my complaints about my life being small and limited were about my physical freedoms. First, I looked to Derek, who was going to take me away from Modesto, to the big city and eventually to Europe. But I did that on my own, as Ginormica. Then it was about how I found things so physically restricting being a giant. Ironic, isn't it—I have all this amazing strength, and was so restricted. No wonder I could be covered by the Americans With Disabilities Act. I thought it was funny at the time. Now…" she tailed off, and stared at her huge hands again for a while in silence.

"Go on," Mary urged.

"Oh, sorry. Yeah, the point is, I was thinking purely in terms of physical restrictions. What I didn't realise is that becoming Ginormica has given me more freedoms in here, and here," she said, pointing to her heart and her head. "Even if I had stayed with Derek, and even if by some fluke he'd actually made it to Europe, my life would still have been small and limited with him. No matter where I was. But now… now, I have these physical issues, and yeah, they can be a bit trying at times, but…"

"But?"

"What I've gained is so much more. I've grown so much more inside that even if I did somehow end up small again, physically that is, I could never go back to my old life."

"What would you do?" Mary asked.

"I'd do what you did," Susan said with a smile as she walked down the wide road, avoiding the pedestrians. "Go to university, educate myself, do something more with my life than just being someone else's appendage. You were never that."

"I never had the option, but never mind," Mary noted with a trace of sadness.

"I want to be what you are," Susan said earnestly.

"A vampire?" Mary asked with a smile.

"Very funny." Susan laughed. "No, a strong and independent person, who can take charge of her own life. See what she wants, and aim for it without waiting to have it presented on a silver platter. You've shown me that being strong and heroic isn't a matter of just physical strength."

"That helps a lot, mind you," Mary noted dryly.

"Stop it," Susan said with a grin. "You're throwing me off track. Anyway, I've never had to go through what you went through," she confessed. "I've never been an outcast, or at least until, well, this happened," she added, gesturing vaguely at her almost fifty-foot frame. "I've always been an insider. I wasn't even one of the weird kids at school. I always fitted in. So it's been really hard to adjust to being on the outside. Maybe that's what I want from a romance. A sense of intimacy. Even if it's not physical. Just a sense of emotional closeness."

"So, are you in love with our good doctor?" Mary suddenly asked.

Susan stammered. "Uh, well, I mean, we all love him… you know…"

"That's clearly not what I meant," Mary countered. "But you don't need to answer."

"Uh, good."

"No, it's quite obvious. You are desperately in love with him, but you just can't admit it. To yourself, let alone to him."

"Whatever makes you think that?" Susan asked.

Mary gazed up at her giant friend. "I'm not a teenager. I'm not even a young lady in her early twenties like you. I can tell when someone is in love. Deeply, desperately. Even if they refuse to admit it to themselves."

"How can I love him?" Susan asked. "You heard what he did to Nancy. He betrayed my trust! He's no better than Derek!"

"No, I think he is," Mary told her. "The mark of a good person is not whether they have done bad things, since we all have sinned in the past, but whether they are willing to confess their mistakes and seek forgiveness."

"He only confessed once I had already found out," Susan pointed out.

"Because until then he had only sinned against Nancy, and himself; not you."

"What do you mean?"

"Your pain was not caused by what he did; it was caused by finding out what he did."

"No, no, what he did to Nancy really hurt me," Susan said emphatically.

"You don't understand," Mary explained. "You weren't hurt by what he had done to her until you found out he had done it. That was the hurt."

"Huh? You're confusing me."

"No I'm not," Mary told her patiently. "It wasn't what he did to her that hurt you, it's the fact that you know he did it. It was finding out that he is not the ideal person you thought he was. He is flawed. Like we all are. Like I am. You know what I have done in my past. You know that I have killed many people in my time, and not because I had to, but because I wanted to. And you are no angel either, you know."

"Well, perhaps not," Susan admitted. "We are all sinners aren't we? That's what the priests tell us. Are you saying I should just forgive him? I don't think it's that easy, you know."

"Of course not," Mary agreed. "You can't just tell yourself you forgive someone. It has to come from here." She indicated her heart, and smiled. "Like love, in fact. You cannot will that to happen either. Or not to happen," she added, looking at Susan.

"I know what you're saying," Susan said softly. "But I can't. I can't. I had my heart broken when Derek rejected me for being a monster, then again when I found out that Doc was a monster."

"Don't you see the parallels here?" Mary asked. "You're doing to Cockroach what Derek did to you. You're rejecting him for being a monster."

"But… but he is."

Mary shook his head. "He _was_. That's the important difference."

"I don't think I can quite see it that way yet, sorry," Susan said. "He destroyed my faith in him. That is hard to accept. I don't want his song and dance routine about how he's changed. I can't let him do to me what Derek did."

"It's the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance," Mary told her gently. "Let him teach yours how. Do not make my mistake—do not leave your soul to bleed beneath the bitter ice of your heart, just because it's afraid of dying…."

. . .

"Ginormica, stop in the name of the law!"

Startled at the sudden interruption, Susan stopped, and looked around for the source of the voice. She spotted a squad of vehicles, labelled as the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department SWAT Team. A man with a megaphone was standing outside the lead car.

"Why?" Susan called down. "What's the problem?"

"You are to report to MF-1 at McCarran immediately, with the monster known as Vampirella. You are in violation of regulations and are ordered to comply or face penalties."

"I… don't know what you're talking about. I have the evening off," Susan said calmly, though inside she was shaking.

"General Monger has ordered your immediate return. Vampirella has no authorisation to be outside the Monster Containment Facility. She is charged with attempted escape from lawful custody, and you are facing charges of aiding and abetting. You will immediately surrender the monster known as Vampirella into our custody and follow us to McCarran."

"And what if we refuse?" Mary called across, remaining close by Susan's foot.

"We are authorised to use force if necessary," the SWAT leader said.

"What, you would hurt an unarmed girl?" Mary asked them.

"You are not an unarmed girl," he called back. "You are not even human. You are a monster, a vampire, and enjoy no protection of the law."

"You better not hurt her!" Susan warned, incensed at the discrimination.

"Are you prepared to surrender?"

"You have no right!" Susan shouted. She raised a fist. "Now back off and leave us alone! You think I'm afraid of you?"

"Zebra-team six, assume position!" the SWAT leader called. Ten men assembled in front of the cars, rifles at the ready but not yet levelled.

"You wouldn't dare!" Mary shouted. "Susan, hold me!"

Susan bent down and let Mary scramble onto her palm.

"Mary has been imprisoned just for being different, for being a monster!" Susan called down. "You have no right to keep her captive!"

"We have every right! Zebra-team two, assume position!"

"Time to beat a strategic retreat I think, Susan!" Mary suggested urgently. Susan did not need encouraging: she turned and ran, heedless of the traffic.

"Stop! Stop at once! That's an order!"

Susan ignored the calls and ran on, past the Bellagio fountains, dodging around a pedestrian bridge and slamming into the Bally's sign on the other side with a great crash. She almost lost her balance as she twisted to avoid a giant television screen that fell from the sign, and then she cut across Flamingo Road. There was no way around the next pedestrian overpass, so with loud shouts of "Excuse me! Coming through!" she clambered awkwardly up the escalators, stumbling and tearing her dress. Away from the road, she decided to cut across the forecourt of Caesars Palace, narrowly missing stepping on a sleek low Jaguar that was pulling up.

"Sorry! Excuse me!" she shouted, and dashed ahead.

"Left! Left!" Mary shouted as the Forum Shops loomed ahead. Susan stumbled to a stop, and quickly kicked off her shoes.

"I can't run in these sodding things!" she shouted, throwing one angrily at the shopping centre, where it crashed into the façade and fell to the ground. "Which way?"

"Left! Down there!"

Susan followed Mary's directions, and dashed down a narrow alleyway between the hotel and the shopping centre.

"Now what?" she shouted as the road suddenly dipped down under an overpass too low for her to get under.

"Up to the right!" Mary cried, looking around wildly. Susan jumped over the low parapet and kept on going.

"Oh fuck! Dead end!" Susan shouted.

"Back!" Mary yelled.

"Freeze! Or we will open fire!" A squad of SWAT vehicles pulled in behind them, screeching to a halt as two dozen armed men took up positions behind the vehicles.

"Leave us alone!" Susan shouted. "We don't want any trouble!" She suddenly dodged sideways, ducking behind a Planet Hollywood globe raised high on a classical column, then took refuge behind the main roadside Caesars Palace sign as six more police vehicles swarmed in. The night was filled with flashing red and blue lights, sirens, and shouts, and Susan was starting to panic. This wasn't how it was supposed to have turned out.

"Stop!" she shouted. "Go away!"

"Hand over the monster!"

"Surrender and you won't get hurt!"

"You're lying!" Mary shouted down. "You're going to kill me! You lot always try to kill people like me! Susan, help! Protect me, please!"

"They won't get you, don't worry! Come on, I have an idea," Susan said. "Cover your head!"

Mary held her arms over her head, keeping as low as she could as the giantess took a step back and then launched herself at the huge standing Caesars Palace sign. It shuddered under the impact, the base crumbling, and then the tall sign toppled over slowly, landing with a tremendous crash on the SWAT vehicles below and sending a cloud of dust into the air as the team members fled to safety, coughing and choking.

"Now!" Susan shouted, and sprinted away as guns opened up behind her, firing warning shots. She dashed past the Mirage's volcano and the Venetian hotel with its replica campanile, and found another pedestrian overpass blocking her. It was deserted, so she raised her leg and smashed it down on the bridge. Half the overpass collapsed, and another powerful kick destroyed the rest.

Ahead she could see more flashing lights blocking the road, and swore. The only way was to go left again. She headed towards the Treasure Island self-parking garages, but spotted some police cars to the right down an alley. Susan veered left instead, running between two buildings, then skidded to a halt by the Mirage fountain as two squads of SWAT vehicles came at her from either side. Another screeched to a halt behind her.

"You are surrounded. The Monster Force team will be arriving shortly. There is no escape. You must surrender."

Susan looked around desperately, seeing nothing but red and blue flashing lights. For a moment, she remembered her visit to Washington DC, and how the streets from the airport had been lined with the same flashing red and blue lights. Back then, they were to honour her. Now they were here to capture her, punish her, hurt her. She slumped in despair.

"We were so close, Mary," she whispered, opening her fist to allow Mary to stand. "We've failed. There is no escape…."

"No!" Mary shouted desperately. "No! I won't go back! I can't!" Her blue eyes began to glow a dull red, and her pale arms started to elongate, the fingers growing long and thin, the skin between them and her body stretching down, ripping her shirt off. Susan gasped. She had never dreamed that Mary could do this. The vampire had never mentioned it, and had always been very dismissive of her powers. But there she was: a small, pale, half-human, half-bat sitting on her hand, hissing at the SWAT team below.

"Mary… My God. What are you doing?" Susan breathed, but the vampire bat ignored her. She jumped off Susan's hand, and swooped down, gaining speed. Just before she hit the ground she spread her wings, and started soaring into the air as the men shouted in confused panic.

"Look out! Get it! Stop it!" came a cacophony of voices as Mary soared gracefully above them. She looked like an angel, Susan thought in wonder and admiration. Beautiful, powerful, and free.

Suddenly there was a sharp crack, and a spurt of red blood exploded from near Mary's shoulder. The vampire's wings fumbled, flapping irregularly, but another shot struck her full in the chest, sending the small pale figure tumbling down towards the ground.

"Mary!" Susan yelled, heedless of the others. She stepped forwards and grabbed the tiny child before she hit the pavement, holding her pale body tenderly. "No!" she cried, as Mary coughed up blood, her wings shrinking and turning into human arms again.

"Stand down all weapons!" the SWAT leader yelled, but Susan didn't hear him. All her attention was focused on the still figure of her friend she was cradling in her arms, somehow even paler than normal.

"Mary! Mary! Can you hear me! You're going to be all right! We'll get you to a hospital! Someone, call an ambulance!" Susan called desperately, looking around. "Help! Mary, Mary! Open your eyes! Drink my blood! Do something! Help! Mary! Please, open your eyes!"

The cold child-like vampire's eyes fluttered, and slowly opened. Susan sobbed in relief to see the familiar pale blue orbs, and fell to her knees, holding her friend tenderly.

"You're going to be fine," she whispered. "Hang in there, okay?"

"Susan…" Mary called softly, and coughed. "Looks like rebellion didn't end well for us either…." She laughed softly, spitting out blood, then licked her lips. "But… to be free is worth ambition…."

Sobbing, Susan nodded, her tears almost blinding her. "I'm going to get you a doctor, okay? Just hang on! Somebody! Get an ambulance! Help us! Please!"

"Susan, my dear," Mary said with a gentle smile. "The time we've had together… has been the happiest of my life. Thank you… for being you." She coughed, and her eyes slowly closed with a long sigh. "For the first time since I was a child… I have found true friendship, and peace. After so long. Peace… such peace…."

"No, Mary, Mary, no, no, open your eyes, please…." Susan pleaded, feeling utterly powerless, her tears pouring down her face.

"Charlie…" Mary breathed, so quietly Susan was barely able to hear. "Your sister's home…."

The small child in Susan's hand went limp.

"Please, please, please, oh God no…. No…." Susan moaned, an agonizing pain knifing through her heart as she slowly rose. "Wake up…please…."

"Hand over the monster and come with us!" the leader called. "Now! Do not resist!"

Susan looked down at the SWAT team members, scurrying around at her feet like so many insects. They were no bigger than dolls. Puny, insignificant, toys. She stared down at those black-clad toys who had killed her friend, her anger building, her heart pounding in her ears, her mind filling with a white-hot rage more ferocious than she had ever known. Inside her, a terrifying, unstoppable force grew and grew, becoming a blinding white fury that consumed her utterly. The world became distant, hazy, dreamlike, as something inside her was stretched to the breaking point, and finally snapped. Now all she knew was hatred and anger; a seething, roiling rage that filled her mind with an agonizing roar of pure despair and agony. Nothing mattered any more. They had killed her only remaining friend. Now they would know why they were afraid of the night. Now they would learn why they feared monsters.…

.

.

* * *

**.**

**NOTES:** I am sorry, Mary. I wish I didn't have to do this to you. It was not done out of whimsy, or sadism, or for shock value. Your fate was determined from the very first moment you arrived. You were a sacrificial lamb, to help Susan mature and learn, grow beyond the petty concerns that have been holding her back, and to act as the catalyst for the next, final, stage of her growth.

For what it's worth, the title is taken from a _Star Trek: Deep Space Nine_ episode that deals with the death of an innocent child, and the subsequent loss of sanity by that child's father.

I looked up the Las Vegas SWAT and police force, but found little useful. The route that Susan and Mary take on their flight is accurate, thanks to Google Maps, where I worked out just where they could go, what obstacles would be in their way, and so on. Feel free to use Google Maps to follow along if you like...

Mary's secret ability came about as I wanted to ensure that the SWAT team genuinely saw her as a threat and could overreact, reinforcing Susan's paranoia about how people treat monsters, and to reinforce the "angel" theme. She never actually denies having this ability, as nobody has actually asked her specifically. She's sneaky that way...

The final lines are paraphrased from _Conan the Barbarian_, spoken by Thulsa Doom as he swears revenge.

The next chapter will be up in hopefully not too long. I want to get a bit ahead with the writing so I can make sure that everything meshes together, and if I find any errors in this chapter I will also correct those asap. Reviews and reactions welcome, of course.

[posted 27 April 2013]


	23. Day of Anger, Day of Mourning

**23. Day of Anger, Day of Mourning**

"We're ready, General," Cockroach said, snapping a salute as the old soldier drove up. Monger hopped out of his jeep, and returned the salute.

"Insectosaurus is out on the surface, prepped and ready. Let's move it, monsters!" Monger called in a stentorian voice, and led the way out of the main hangar. "Are the tranq guns ready?" he asked a man in a captain's uniform once they reached the hangar bay door.

"All loaded on the insect, sir," the captain said, saluting. "You have ten standard units."

"That better be enough," Monger growled. "She's stronger now than when we captured her the first time."

"It's all we have, General. We can synthesize more, but it won't be ready for another day."

"General, do we really need tranquilizers?" Cockroach asked as he scurried after the rapidly-moving army man. "If I just talked to Susan and Mary, I'm sure I could persuade them to see reason. Perhaps if I could get a promise of leniency…?"

"No promises Cockroach," Monger growled. "If, and only if, you get them both back safely, without fuss, then I might consider thinking about reconsidering their punishment. Provided they both apologise properly of course."

"Thank you, sir," Cockroach said, saluting the general.

"Come on Doc," Link told him, loping past with Bob following him. They headed outside, where Insectosaurus was waiting on the top access hatch of the large lifting platform.

"Hey, I'm glad you're getting a chance to show your skills, Insecto," Link called up as the monsters neared.

The giant moth roared back a reply. "I know, I know," Link assured her. "I'm sure you did want to go to Vegas with me before. I'm sorry old buddy. But you're just too big. You're a country girl."

Another roar.

"Yep, you'll get to see it this time," Link said, patting Insectosaurus's titanic leg. "Maybe we can shoot some craps, huh? A bit of hustling, eh?"

"What are you waiting for—an engraved invitation?" Monger shouted. "Time's a-wasting!"

"Invitations?" Bob asked happily. "Like to a party?"

"Just get on!" Monger ordered.

"And make it snappy!" Bob shouted as he saluted, and followed the others onto the giant insect's broad back. Monger barked an order, and the Monster Team gripped the moth's fur as her huge wings extended and began flapping, lifting them off slowly.

"Okay Insecto," Monger called from her nose as he checked his compass. "Head… thataway!" he instructed her, pointing.

The moth screeched a response, and banked right, climbing steadily.

"What do we do when we get there?" Cockroach asked once they were at cruising altitude..

"We find Ginormica and Vampirella, and knock some sense into those idiots!" Monger shouted. "Those two are in so much trouble!"

"I just hope we can find them soon," Cockroach noted. "And I hope they don't put up too much of a fuss when we arrive…."

* * *

Susan carefully, reverently, laid the small still body of Lady Mary Stewart on the grass, under one of the palm trees. Then she stood to her full gigantic height, facing the armed squadron. These men had slaughtered her last friend, the poor lonely vampire who only wanted to regain her freedom. They had killed an innocent. Now they would pay. They would pay for it with their lives. Nothing else mattered any more. There was only hatred and revenge. A relentless, blinding white noise had engulfed her mind, drowning out everything but her need to hurt those who had hurt her.

The titanic monster raised her massive foot, and smashed it down on one of the men who had shot Mary. There was almost no resistance as he was crushed to a thin, bloody pulp. Screams and cries of horror filled the air as she brutally kicked the other, who sailed over the cars with a ghastly strangled cry of terror, cut short as he smashed against the road. Mary was right: it did feel good to kill.

She felt a painful sting as a bullet impacted her leg, and snarled. Another swift kick sent the shooter flying into the Mirage's pool.

"Don't shoot her! We have to contain her!" a voice shouted in the confusion.

Susan reached into the parking building and grabbed a car from a slot, which she hurled at the SWAT team. That was swiftly followed by another, which exploded on impact. Several armoured vans came screaming up, and opened fire on her with water cannons. The unexpected blast knocked her off balance and she fell heavily, but rolled and leapt to her feet again before stomping hard on the nearest van. It buckled beneath her weight, and she heard more screams. The other van took refuge inside a parking structure. Susan pounded her fist into the building, ripping out a massive hole and pulling the van out, crushing it in her fists. There were screams and shouts all around her, flashing lights, and smoke and dust filled the air.

She could hear a helicopter coming closer, its spotlight searching her out. Susan turned and ran, smashing through the monorail line, out to the main road. She grabbed the Treasure Island sign and, with a powerful heave, wrenched it off its foundations, toppling it onto the side road to crush the pursuing SWAT vehicles. Out on the main road, she dodged behind the Venetian's replica campanile, kicking through fences and fountains. The chopper shot out a grappling hook, which caught on her dress, tearing it by her thighs. Susan quickly grabbed the wire cable and furiously swung the chopper around, smashing it into the side of the Venetian, where it exploded in a ball of fire, raining debris. She swatted aside another grappling cable, this one shot from the ground, and ran out to the street.

Her tattered dress caught on a fence, ripping off the entire bottom part from her mid-thighs down as another bullet hit her arm. Susan barely felt it; her adrenalin was surging, flooding her titanic body, washing away fear, swamping rational thought. All she could think of was destruction; a black hand was gripping her heart, squeezing it, driving her hatred. She wrenched out a tall steel streetlight, and swung it at the campanile, then again, before picking up a bus and hurling it into the tall brick tower. It swayed, showering bricks down onto the road, and Susan threw her entire twelve-ton weight against it. With a horrendous groan of over-stressed girders, the tower slowly toppled over, smashing onto the Strip with a deafening roar, filling the air with dust and debris, blocking the entire road.

* * *

"Repeat your last! I say again, repeat your last!" Monger shouted, pressing his phone to his ear. "They what? Goddam! She what? What? My God! Ginormica? No! Contain her! But for God's sake try not to kill her!"

"General, what's the matter?" Cockroach asked as Monger shut off his phone and put it away, his face ashen.

"Vamp… Lady Mary... is dead," Monger reported, as if he couldn't believe the words he was saying.

"No!" Link and Bob gasped in unison as Cockroach felt his insides twist, and a wave of nausea overcame him.

"Oh Mary, Mary…" he whispered. "Oh, you poor thing."

Bob moaned, and dissolved into a translucent liquid, his surface shimmering in pain.

"Why? How?" Link demanded.

"Shot. Apparently… she attacked a SWAT member. Or something. They said it was self-defence…."

Cockroach closed his eyes, feeling ill. "Is… is Susan all right?" he whispered, dreading the response.

Monger hesitated.

"General! What about Susan? Please!" Cockroach called, suddenly terrified.

"Susan… Ginormica's safe," Monger admitted.

"Thank Darwin!" Cockroach exhaled.

"She's…. She's killed three men, and is destroying the city," Monger told them.

"What? No, no, no! Not Susan! She would never! Impossible!"

Monger shook his head. "I never imagined… Damn. I should never have… Dammit, why did they have to…." He took a deep breath, and squared his shoulders. "Okay, listen up monsters! Ginormica's gone on a rampage. We have to stop her before she starts hurting civilians."

"General, if she is killed, there will be _severe_ consequences." Cockroach hissed. "Up until now, I've been a fairly cooperative prisoner. But if she dies, I will have nothing left to lose. The people responsible _will_ suffer."

"Normally I don't respond well to threats, Cockroach," Monger said, his eyes slitted dangerously. Then he let his breath out of his nose noisily. "But this time I'll let it slide, because if she is killed I might just let you! Fly, damn you! Fly!" he added, leaning forwards as if he could somehow make the giant moth get there faster.

Behind him, Cockroach was sitting still, the wind whipping through his antennae, and his heart breaking as he thought of the intelligent, cultured, yet spunky vampire he had known for all too brief a time. For the hundredth time, he wished his mutation allowed him the luxury of tears. His desperate sadness over her useless death was compounded by the horrible, gnawing fear about what might happen to Susan, to the sweet innocent girl he could not live without.

"Oh man, I hope they don't hurt Giny," Link muttered beside him. "She's just a kid, dammit. Why did I let her get to me? I should have just laughed her off instead of insulting her. I should have been a better friend."

"And now she thinks she no longer has any friends left," Cockroach sighed. "You're right. She is only a young, sheltered, naïve child, and we expected too much of her, too fast."

"We were too blind to see just how badly she was hurt," Link muttered, his face showing nothing but pain and guilt. "And now she's gone and done… done this…."

"It's my fault," Cockroach admitted. "She thinks I've betrayed her."

"Nah, Doc," Link told him sadly. "She thinks _we've_ betrayed her. And we have."

* * *

Susan breathed deeply, casting around for anyone trying to hurt her. She was like a hunted animal, conscious only of her anger and the need for revenge, to hurt those who had hurt her. Susan started running down the Strip. People ran screaming, jumping out of their cars as the huge giantess thundered down the road, deliberately smashing through light poles, wires, and pedestrian overpasses, and not caring how many cars she stepped on. She picked up abandoned cars, and threw them down the road. Dodging another water cannon, she ducked in behind the Forum Shops. Several SWAT vehicles followed her, so Susan grabbed the tall column the Planet Hollywood sign sat atop and ripped it out, holding it high above her head before she hurled it at the pursuing vehicles. The hollow concrete column struck them full on, disintegrating into pieces and flattening the vehicles as the men inside ran for their lives.

Susan ran past the main entrance to Caesars Palace, where she ripped up the great statue of Augustus and threw it towards a pursuing helicopter. The chopper veered desperately as the statue sailed past, missing by mere inches and landing with a crash in the entryway to the Forum Shops. Susan strode across the hotel's raised courtyard to Flamingo Road, where two more water cannons forced her back onto the Strip. Snarling, furious beyond reason, she picked up an empty truck and hurled it at one cannon van, then suddenly found herself falling forwards as a grappling cable caught her legs from behind. She smashed through the roof of the Bellagio's north shopping wing, landing in a shower of dust and concrete amidst the Louis Vuitton shop. Incensed at her capture, Susan hauled herself out and, still sitting, yanked her feet backwards, pulling the cables from their mounts. Gritting her teeth, she kicked out and snapped the inch-thick wires like old rubber bands, and scrambled to her feet. Grabbing one of the SWAT vans, she clambered on top of the low roof with it. Holding it high, she threw it as hard as she could. The van struck the half-size Eiffel Tower replica at the Paris Hotel, and exploded in flames, showering the road below with burning debris.

* * *

"Hey, where'd she get to?"

"She's moving fast—come on, or we'll lose her!"

"There she is! By the Flamingo!"

"Where?"

"There! How can you miss a fifty-foot giant?"

"Oh, yes—oh my God! Look at the size of her!" the young lieutenant cried.

"Knock it off, Riker, Kimura!" growled the captain. "Focus!"

"Yes, sir," Lieutenant Riker said nervously as he watched the titanic figure striding down the Strip. He could hear shouts and screams from fleeing civilians, who were being rounded up and directed into the hotels and casinos by the police. Two or three spotlights were playing on the massive figure of Ginormica, who was slowly heading towards them along the wide boulevard. Riker could hear her heavy footsteps, the shriek of twisted metal as her massive feet crushed cars in her way. The wind had got up, and her hair was blowing in the breeze, and the tattered edges of her ripped dress fluttered, giving tantalizing glimpses up between her thighs. He had to admit that, despite the casualties and damage she was causing, she was pretty hot.

"I don't know whether to shoot or score," he heard one of the men joke, echoing his thoughts.

"Mind out of the gutter, soldier," the captain growled.

"I reckon we need Ultraman," Kimura commented.

"Who?" Riker asked.

"Japanese superhero, sir. He'd take her out. He fights _kaiju_, weird monsters, all the time. Grows as big as they are, and wham, bam!"

"Yeah, well this ain't a kiddie's TV show, Kimura," Riker told him. "She's already killed half a dozen of our best men."

"Well why can't we take her out, open fire? Look—she's bleeding on her arm and leg; she's not invulnerable. We could take her."

"Orders," Riker said. "We have to take her alive. When's that damn tranq crew getting here?"

"They're sending in a special squad to deal with her," the captain said. "All we gotta do is keep her contained in the Strip, and away from civilians."

"You think she can—oh my God!" Riker suddenly gasped, as the huge monster bent down and picked up a bus with one hand. She stood, and threw it towards them.

"Move it! Move it!" the captain yelled as the bus came tumbling through the air. Riker leapt clear just as it smashed into where they had been standing, sweeping away the SWAT vehicles behind them.

"Kimura!" Riker shouted.

"Over here! I'm hurt bad, lieutenant!"

"Man down! Medic!" the captain shouted, dashing to where Kimura lay, his arm smashed and bleeding.

Riker felt a shadow pass over him. He looked up, terrified, as the huge foot of the giantess came down towards him. Rolling quickly, he watched in helpless horror as it struck Kimura, instantly turning him into a shapeless red pulp, and just as quickly lifted off as the giant monster moved on down the Strip, leaving death and destruction in her wake.

* * *

"There she is!" Monger shouted as Insectosaurus banked low over the Strip.

Below them, Cockroach was confronted with a nightmarish scene of devastation. Flames were shooting up from a number of locations along the road, there was dust and debris everywhere, and he could hear shouts and screams. Scanning, he spotted Susan, spot-lit, cornered outside the entrance to the Paris hotel. As he watched, he saw her smash through the small replica of the Arc du Triomphe, slicing off half the top with a single swing of her doubled fists. Chunks of concrete sailed through the air, sending SWAT team members and cops running for shelter. A water cannon was shooting at her, causing her to continually stumble as she wrenched yet another grappling hook out of her dress, hauling up the truck it was attached to and swinging it around her head before she let go, sending it sailing across the Strip where it landed with a huge splash in the Bellagio Fountains.

Cockroach was horrified. He had never dreamed she possessed such destructive capabilities. He could see she was bleeding in several locations, but she didn't seem to even notice. She just seemed hell-bent on destroying as much as possible. What could have driven her to this?

"Get us down!" he called to Monger. "Perhaps I can talk to her, reason with her!"

"You still reckon talking to her will do any good?" Monger called.

"We've got to try!" Cockroach said. "She knows me, she trusts me—what she needs right now is someone she can trust, to bring her down from her adrenalin-fuelled rage."

"Just in case, I'll have a tranq gun standing by," Monger said, directing Insectosaurus to land on the Strip.

The monsters slid down the moth's huge wing, and dashed through the police lines, followed by Monger in his jetpack. Cockroach ducked past a chunk of concrete flying through the air, scuttling from one pile of wreckage and rubble to another. Up close, he could see Susan's dress was ripped badly and soaking wet, her face was covered in dust and mud, and her eyes red with tears.

"Damn you, you monsters!" she yelled, kicking a Mercedes. Cockroach watched it fly through the air and land heavily on its side, the glass shattering and the metal denting. Susan stamped on a SWAT vehicle that got too close, crushing it flat. Cockroach's heart was in his mouth, pounding in fear. But he had to help her, he had to talk to her, calm her.

"Susan!" he shouted up. "Susan Murphy!"

"Get the tranq gun ready!" he heard Monger say. Susan swept her arm, smashing through the glass roof of the entrance portico.

"Get back!" she yelled. "Murderers! You killed her! I'll destroy you all!"

"Fire!"

The hypodermic missile shot through the air, striking Susan on her thigh. The giantess roared in anger and pain before she pulled it out and flung it back. It struck a policeman, impaling him through the chest. He collapsed, vomiting blood as he tried to scream.

* * *

Susan felt a sudden painful sting in her thigh. Glancing down, she saw a hypodermic needle stuck in there. Furious, she ripped it out, and flung it away as hard as she could. They weren't going to take her down, not again. She felt a wave of nausea, and her head started spinning, shapes distorting. Then she vaguely realised someone was shouting her name. Her real name. Looking down, she spotted a white lab coat, and for a brief instant, her mind was filled again with her nightmare of being experimented on, the pain and fear Nancy would have felt. Nancy's fear—it was caused by this evil, twisted man. He was the one who had kept her prisoner, chained her to the table as he carried out his vicious experiments. He was an insect, nothing more. Blinded with rage, under attack, disoriented, and in shock, Susan's confused mind latched onto the one thing it was certain of: the mutant mad scientist was a killer. He must die.

* * *

"Susan! Listen to me! Please! It's Cockroach! Doctor Cockroach!"

"Doc! Get out of there!" Link yelled.

"Murderer!" Susan shouted down at him. "You killed her!"

Cockroach looked up, and saw Susan's bare foot coming down fast. He threw himself desperately out of the way, but was too late. A crushing pressure beyond anything he had ever experienced was the last thing he remembered before his exoskeleton cracked, and his consciousness faded.

* * *

"DOOOOC!" Bob yelled, in a tremendous cry of pain that drowned out everything, echoing and re-echoing off the building, rattling its windows, and finally penetrating the fog around the giantess's mind. Her mind snapped back, and she realised with a sickening clarity what was lying under her foot.

"No, no, no…" she moaned, staring at the still form on the ground, blood pouring out from under its white coat. A numbing shock overtook Susan as she backed away, trying to distance herself from what she had done. She staggered, falling against the side of the building, sending broken glass tumbling to the ground.

"NOOO!" She ran, heedless of the warning shots that suddenly opened up, heedless of the vehicles on the ground, or the people. She just ran, blindly, fleeing into the night, desperate to get away from what she had done, desperate to get away from her horrible crime. And, more than anything, desperate beyond measure to get away from herself.

* * *

"Get after her!" someone yelled. "Don't let her escape! You are authorised to use deadly force!"

"Monster down!" Monger yelled. "Medic! Medic!"

A team of white-robed paramedics rushed past, and began examining the twisted, crushed body on the ground.

"No, you can't be dead, Doc!" Link cried, balling his hands into useless fists. He wanted to hit something, smash something, in his impotent rage. How could she? Why? How?

"Link, Captain Kirkwood says Mary's body is still up by the Mirage, just north of the volcano pool," Monger told him. "They left her there until we arrived. Go and bring her back, please. We'll… we'll take care of Cockroach."

Link nodded, his lower lip trembling. "How could this have happened, General?" he asked sadly.

"I… I don't know, son," Monger said quietly, his shoulders drooping. He suddenly looked very old to Link. Old and tired. Link suddenly realised how hard he must be struggling to hold his emotions in check. So he just nodded, and loped up the Strip.

It was eerily quiet. Everyone had been evacuated, and most of the street lights were out as well. The hotel illuminations still shone brightly, and fire crews were dousing the last of the flames from the burning wreckage. Link ran swiftly up the road, blinking back tears of anger and sadness. What madness had happened tonight? Mary, Doc, Susan? It was all over. Would they be imprisoned again, considered dangerous monsters? Should he try and flee too, while he had the chance? Where could he go? Some quiet beach somewhere, far away enough that no one would ever find him. But no, he realised. They would always find him. There was no point to trying to escape. Mary had tried, and paid for it with her life. They would never let monsters be free. Ever.

* * *

Susan ran like she had never run before. She ran straight ahead, down the Strip, tears streaming down her face, gasping for breath as her sobs almost choked her. She could hear sirens in the distance, and knew that law enforcement vehicles were after her. Trying her best to avoid stepping on cars, she pounded down the wide road at over a hundred miles an hour, each titanic step carrying her fifty feet.

Once over the expressway, she realised that the city was ending, and the vast barren desert was opening up to her right. She followed a minor rural road, avoiding the urban residential sprawl that surrounded the city like paint splatters on canvas, and just ran, on and on, following the road into the hills, away from the lights, the sounds, the people.

Once she was well out of the city, Susan struck off across country, aiming for a low range of hills she could see as black shapes in the distance. It was not as easy to run fast, but she knew she had to stay off the roads as much as possible. It was only a matter of time before the army caught up with her, and, while she could move very fast normally, her injuries and the tranquilizer in her system meant that she was slower and more unstable than usual. She thought she could see beams from search helicopters stabbing through the night sky some way off, and was terrified that they might be hunting her down like a rabid animal. _But that's what I am_, she reminded herself. _A dangerous monster, a killer on the loose. I can't expect mercy or compassion—I don't deserve mercy or compassion. They will hunt me, they will find me…and then they will kill me_….

* * *

Link soon arrived at the entrance to the Mirage. It was easy to spot where Mary's body lay, as there were a number of officials and policemen around. They recognised him, and fell back quickly as he approached, staying a safe distance away. _They don't trust me_, he realised, too depressed to be insulted.

"General Monger told us you'd be coming, Major," one of the SWAT team members said, looking nervously at the seven-and-a-half foot scaled ape.

"Is that her?" Link asked. He felt stupid for asking something so obvious, but it was so hard to see the still body on the ground as the haughty, proud, yet caring and warm, Lady Mary.

"It is. We're… we're sorry it had to come to this. Was she your friend?"

Link looked at the child's body on the grass. Her eyes were closed, and someone had covered her slim bare torso with a sheet. If it had not been for the bloodstains staining the white sheet crimson, Mary would have looked as if she were merely sleeping peacefully. Link found himself choking back tears as he nodded. "Yeah. She was a good friend. I don't think I realised how good…."

He moved forwards, and carefully lifted her up, as gently as he could. She was so light, so delicate, like a crumpled flower…. A tear fell from his chin onto her pale cheek, and he watched it slowly roll down before he gently brushed his large green finger to wipe it off. Her skin was so smooth, and so cold. She was a broken porcelain doll in his arms. His heart aching, Link slowly made his way down the deserted road, carrying his tiny, precious burden.

.

.

* * *

**WORDMANGLER'S NOTES**: I don't like inserting this sort of interpretive note, but considering the extreme actions Susan takes in this chapter, I do think it is important at this stage to remember that all the other monsters have also killed in their rampages. Also, Susan has not targeted "innocents" here: only the groups that killed Mary and are attacking her. She has committed great crimes. But she is not irredeemable.

Okay, onto other matters... The title of this chapter and the next are both taken from a loose translation of the Requiem Mass: _Dies iræ, dies illa, solvet sæclum in favilla_. A more literal translation is "The day of wrath, that day which will reduce the world to ashes." However that doesn't suit the song very well so I prefer this more poetic translation. The "day" being referred to here is the Day of Judgement.

The image of Susan I have here is essentially her in her ruined wedding dress, as seen for example in concept art on the cover of the _Art of Monsters vs. Aliens_ book (easily searchable), or a picture I saw on DeviantArt of Ginormica attacking (key words: Girnormica attacks idkura). In fact the entire reason I gave her the dress in the first place was to get her in the same outfit she is in on the cover of the _MvA Art_ book.

Again, the geography of the Las Vegas Strip has been carefully studied, through Google Maps as I was not able to get a research grant to check it out in person.

Alert readers may recognise the "Hey, where'd she get to?" "She's moving fast—come on, or we'll lose her!" bits from Susan's visit to Modesto a while back, when the teenage boys spotted her. Here of course it has been repurposed into something altogether worse.

"Riker" is take from Star Trek's "Commander Riker" solely as that was the first "officer name" that popped into my head. "Kimura" is a pretty typical Japanese name that I gave to a SWAT member to have someone who is likely to name-drop Ultraman.

The next chapter needs a bit more knocking into shape, but hopefully not too long. The story does indeed have a happy ending. And we (and Susan) will get there eventually...

[posted 30 April 2013] [Slightly edited 1 May 2013]


	24. When to Ashes All is Burning

**24. When to Ashes All is Burning**

Susan stumbled in the dark and fell headlong, crashing into the sand and rocks. She moaned in pain, but scrambled to her feet and continued running. She had to keep running, far away. Away from the city, away from people, away from anyone she could hurt. Mary was dead. Because of her. Doc was dead. Because of her. Her world had utterly crumbled, brought down by her in a Samsonian act of destruction. There was no hope for her now; no redemption. She had become a monster; a dangerous, terrible, monster. She had become Death, destroyer of worlds.

Eventually she slowed, and stopped. Even her powerful body had its limits. The tranquilizer was having an effect, and she was finding herself weakened, dizzy. Panting, she bent over, resting her hands on her knees, and felt bile rising in her throat. She was desperate for sleep. But she couldn't stop. Not here, not so soon. They would be after her, with tanks and guns and helicopters, searching for her relentlessly. They would not stop, ever, until she was dead or in chains. Breathing heavily, every step a trial, she pushed herself as far as she could go, up into the low range of barren rocky hills.

* * *

"General!" one of the medics examining the mangled body of Cockroach suddenly called. "He's… I don't know how, but he's still alive!"

"What? How?" Monger gasped, his eyes wide with desperate hope. "Never mind! Can you save him?"

"We've radioed for a chopper. He needs immediate treatment. He's suffered massive internal injuries, and has lost a lot of blood. He has also suffered spinal trauma, we think, though we can't be certain. It'll be tricky moving him. And…."

"Spit it out!"

"We don't know how much damage there has been to the brain, General. He's in a coma now, but there's no telling when…or if…he'll come out of it."

"Thank you, doctor," Monger said quietly. He glanced over at the prostrate form of his old friend, his arms and legs at unnatural angles, his head deformed. One eye was bulging out, bloodshot. Monger felt bile rise in his throat, and forced it down with an effort.

"Come on, you stubborn old man," he growled. "Don't let it end this way. Fight, dammit! You're an armour-plated motherfrakker! Fight!"

.

* * *

A distant thumping sound in the sky stopped Susan in her tracks. She looked around, her heart in her mouth, and spotted a helicopter in the distance, its searchlight scanning the ground. Hunting for her, she knew. Acutely aware that a fifty-foot woman in the tattered remains of a white dress would be visible for a long way, even at night, she looked around wildly for somewhere she could hide. Dark craggy hills loomed up around her, so she headed towards what looked like a low cliff, curling herself up at the base, pressing her huge body tight against the warm rock. The helicopter grew louder, the searchlight sweeping the road in great arcs, and Susan held her breath as it passed low overhead and carried on over the pass without spotting her.

Once it had gone, she carefully stood up and made her way back to the road. She would have preferred to remain going across country, but not only was it very dark out here and she was sick of tripping over, the road appeared to be the only way through the range of low hills she had arrived at. Wherever that was—all she knew was that she had struck out vaguely westwards. Area 52 was sort of northwest of Vegas, she thought. At least Area 51 was—and presumably Area 52 was nearby. Even though she'd seen the views flying into the base a couple of times, the scenery was so featureless and devoid of landmarks that she knew there was no way she could find her way there on her own. Assuming she wanted to, that was. She didn't even know where she wanted to go. Other than away from anyone she could hurt. She would not take that risk again. She could not. She would flee into the desert, alone, miles from anyone.

After walking for a while, she thought she could make out flashing lights in the distance, and dropped awkwardly to the ground. The lights turned out to be a couple of container trucks, and Susan breathed a sigh of relief. She pushed herself to her feet, and trudged wearily over the pass, jumping off and flattening herself against the hillside every time a car came along the lonely road. The night was so still and quiet that she could hear them long before she saw them, but their headlights, shining on the hills as they came up the side of the pass, always startled her into thinking they were searchlights looking for her. Her heart was constantly in her mouth, and she was constantly thinking she could hear the thump of chopper blades in the distance.

Finally she had to stop. Her head was reeling and her legs were shaking. More exhausted, both physically and emotionally, than she had ever been in her young life, she headed off the road and collapsed onto the rocky ground with a crash that shook the earth. For a while Susan just lay there breathing deeply, trying to focus. She was near a low cliff, and there were some convenient boulders that would hide her from most angles, so she crawled over behind one, desperate to rest, and curled into a ball.

Her mind was a whirl, full of confused, distorted images, but two stood out: the beautiful pale form of Mary, soaring on those surprising wings high above her murderers, and the helpless white-robed form of Cockroach, his eyes wide in horrified disbelief as her foot descended on him. Over and over, the noise of the guns that ended Mary's life and the noise of Cockroach's exoskeleton cracking under her foot echoed in her head, blending together to become an unrelenting cannonade of destruction, death, and doom as the young giantess finally succumbed to her exhaustion and fell asleep.

.

* * *

"General Monger, sir!"

"What is it?" the old soldier snapped. He glanced at the clock on the wall of the Situation Room at Area 52. It was nearly three in the morning. Sleep was clearly going to be a luxury until this incident was cleared up.

"It's the President, sir!" his aide said nervously. "He's coming down to Las Vegas this afternoon on an inspection tour! And… and he's going to want answers…"

Monger sighed, and closed his eyes. His left temple was throbbing. "Once Governor Sandoval and Mayor Goodham of Las Vegas have met with him, arrange for him to be transferred to Area 52. That's where we'll be holding Ginormica when we capture her."

"How… how are… things going with that?"

"How the hell do you think things are going?" Monger snarled, gesturing angrily towards the huge map table. It was currently showing an image of southern Nevada. "She has _really_ ticked my clock this time!"

"What about her tracking device? Can we use that?"

"Normally we could," the general told him. "Her standard uniforms have locater signals built into them. But of course this time she wasn't damn well wearing one! The damned Chamber of Commerce had to go and give her a new dress! And I had to be soft and let her wear it!"

"General, we have some infra-red imagery from the KX-76 low Earth orbit spy satellite," another aide said, hurrying up. He made a few adjustments to the map display. "We've tracked her out to the Potosi Mountain area, west of Las Vegas, but lost her there. Too many false reflections from the sun-heated rocks. We sent out choppers, but no luck yet. Should we send out ground vehicles?"

"Too few roads," Monger growled. "She's not stupid: she'll be avoiding the roads as much as possible. Notify the Pahrump Sheriff's Department, just in case she ends up out there."

"You think she'll try and destroy Pahrump as well?" the aide asked, looking shocked.

Monger shook his head. "No. I hope not. But she can still be provoked if we screw up her capture, if she feels threatened. Consider her non-hostile, but extremely dangerous."

"Do we still have orders to use lethal force?"

"Only in defence of civilian life. Is that understood, soldier?" Monger instructed him, glaring up from his stocky five-foot-eight frame. "She is unique—we dare not risk losing her. But by God I'm going to kill her!"

.

* * *

Susan groaned, and opened her eyes. Her body was hurting all over, especially where she had been shot. Luckily the tranquilizer had dulled the worst of the pain, and the quantonium was acting to help heal her quickly. She would have to get the bullets removed at some stage, she knew, but for now the pain was a reminder of how people saw her, of how she truly was.

"A monster," she told herself, sitting up painfully and cradling her head on her knees. She had slept badly, tormented by nightmares of vague and sinister shapes dripping in blood. Images from the previous evening came flooding back, each one like a knife in her heart. Susan just sat for a while and let the tears flow.

What could she do now? She knew the government would be tracking her, and that it was probably only a matter of time before she was captured, or perhaps even killed. But would even that be so bad? Susan thought back to Nancy Archer, her predecessor. Those giant bones, still and pale under the cold, clinical lights of the laboratory, where she had learned just how badly Cockroach had betrayed her trust, how he had lied to her. Perhaps it was only fitting that she join Nancy in death. After all, she had nothing left to live for now. Perhaps one day, years from now, her indestructible bones would be found in the remote desert canyon where she had crawled to die, and people would remember tales of the terrifying giantess from long ago who had caused so much destruction and suffering.

Eventually she knew she had to move. The sun was already fairly high in the sky, and it was starting to get rather warm. Trying to ignore her thirst, Susan peered over the huge boulder to make sure there was no one in sight, and then struggled to her feet. She looked at the low rugged hillside, and sighed. It did not look like it would be a pleasant climb in the heat of the summer desert. But she had no choice if she wanted to remain away from people, and away from her pursuers. She dashed across the road and started up, scrambling to get out of sight before any vehicles came. While her increased size and strength made it far easier than otherwise, it was still not an easy climb, and several times she slipped on the loose soil and stones. Her bare feet were getting rather sore by the time she reached the ridge, and she had grazed her left knee. Panting slightly, Susan scanned the landscape. There were some slightly higher peaks to the south, the direction she was facing, but off to the west the hills dipped down into a narrow valley filled with scrub and low pines, then rose again steeply. That looked most promising, she decided.

Susan made her way down the side of the hill, and after about another hour she spotted several cleared areas with low buildings among the junipers and pinyon pines. It looked like a campsite, and she ducked low just in case. However she couldn't see anyone moving, so gingerly crept forward. A helpful sign told her that this was Camp Potosi, a Boys Scouts of America campsite. Susan listened carefully, but could not hear a sound. It was deserted. Praying that it would remain so for a few hours, she tiptoed into the small compound, and then spotted a swimming pool by some long huts. Desperately thirsty, she stepped over the perimeter fence and knelt down, dipping her hands in the cool water. She took a tentative sip. It tasted of chlorine, but she decided the Boy Scouts wouldn't run the risk of poisoning their troops, so she drank the rest of the water in her hands, then bent her head and drank directly from the pool, greedily sucking the water up. _Like Mary with blood_, she suddenly thought, and sank back on her knees, weeping again.

"Mary, Mary…." Susan whispered. "Why did you have to be so stubborn? Why did _I_ have to be so damned stubborn? So damned arrogant?"

She thought back to her behaviour over the past couple of weeks, and how she had treated the other monsters. They were supposed to be her friends, but she had looked down on them figuratively as well as literally. "I started to see you as lesser because you were smaller," she told the sky, standing up. "I've been such a bitch…. And this is what happened because I was a bitch…. Oh, I am so sorry. I really am…."

Why had she been so eager, so cocksure? She was the one who had enabled Mary to escape, she was the one who had defied the police. If only she had refused to sneak Mary out, if only she had submitted quietly when caught. There were so many turning points, Susan realised. So many chances she had been given to make the right choice, do the right thing, and each time she had unfailingly made the wrong choice. The arrogant choice, the selfish choice. And because of that, her friend lay dead, killed after just a few hours of freedom. Because of that, she had given in to all the stress and frustration, letting it explode in mindless, violent, hatred. Such hatred….

She had hated them all so much. They had killed her friend, the lonely vampire who had survived so much hatred and suffering, just when she was finally feeling accepted, part of a family. And it was her fault. Susan was only glad that in the last few hours of her long and unhappy life, Mary had found peace. She had almost welcomed her death as a release from suffering. But Susan had not. She had fought against it, given in to her anger, her pure, focused rage. And now swathes of Las Vegas lay in smouldering ruins, and her two best friends were dead. Because of her arrogance, her anger. Because of her.

Her lower lip trembled, and she wiped her eyes. "Oh God, Susan, you're a horrible person," she whispered to herself. Then she shook her head slowly, her silver-white hair brushing her face. "No, Ginormica," she told herself, her throat constricting with a sob. "You are a horrible _monster_…."

A noise in the sky made her look up. The cloudless blue sky was empty, but the noise grew louder, and Susan recognised it as a helicopter. She desperately cast around for a place to hide. The largest hut looked long enough to shelter her, but the door was too small. "Sorry kids," Susan muttered, and quickly smashed a larger hole through the wall before she scrambled inside, knocking over tables and chairs as she hid her fifty-foot body away. She could hear the chopper hover above, and wondered if they had seen her crawl inside. Her heart pounding, she waited nervously, trying to resist the temptation to run. To her relief, the noise of the chopper grew distant, and soon faded away.

Susan decided to spend the rest of the day in the scout hall, and only move at night. She kicked a hole in the partition wall at the far end so she could stretch her feet out properly, and lay down, looking up at the ceiling with its open beams. She had heard choppers fly over nearby at least twice while waiting, each time holding her breath, not daring to move a muscle, as if the machines hunting her down could see right through the roof.

She dozed fitfully, nightmares haunting her sleep. Her waking moments were scarcely less unpleasant, however, as she would just stare at the walls, at the children's drawings that decorated them, and constantly relieve the horrors she had caused. It seemed as if every scream, every terrified face, was burned in her brain for eternity. She felt she would never know peace again. Each time she closed her eyes, she saw Mary. And each time she opened them, she saw Cockroach. Susan rolled onto her side, and let the tears flow as she mourned. For Mary, for Cockroach, and for the sweet, kind person she used to be.

* * *

Eventually she decided it was dark enough outside to risk leaving. Feeling very sore and stiff from her cramped hiding place, she dragged herself out, and looked carefully around. The night was completely still, the heavens ablaze with thousands of stars. Susan took another drink from the chlorine-tainted pool, wishing she could have something to eat, and then berated herself for selfishly thinking of her stomach when Mary and Doc could never eat again. She choked back a sob, and slowly wandered away, trying to ignore her rumbling stomach.

She found a dirt track leading out of the campsite, and followed it down to the valley floor, where it gradually wound its way along the valley. Susan struck off to the right as soon as she was out of the valley and the trees had given way to low scrub. That soon led her out into a vast and barren plain. After about an hour or so of trudging, her mind going over and over the events of the previous day, the last couple of weeks, and the whole time since she had become Ginormica, she arrived at a paved road running across her path, and a low range of hills.

She decided to follow the road for a while, as the plain was so flat and open that she knew she would spot any vehicles miles off. There were a few scattered settlements along the way, and the odd set of overhead wires to duck under. Each time a car came along she dashed off the road, flattening herself in a handy shallow ditch or dry riverbed. By now her white dress was a filthy brown, and the rest of her was liberally covered in dust and dirt. Susan welcomed the filth as camouflage, hiding her away. She had to hide away, where no one else could see her, or get hurt by her.

* * *

A couple of hours later, after a few random twists and turns, she found herself in a vast wide valley, its floor covered in a huge salt pan, and bordered with high mountains on either side. The moon shone off the salt flats, making them seem to glow. It was like another world, Susan felt as she looked around at the desolate landscape. There was not a breath of wind nor a scrap of vegetation, and nothing moved. It was as silent as the tomb, a valley of death. _How appropriate for a killer like me_, Susan told herself. _Yea, though I walk through the Valley of Death, I will fear no evil_, Susan thought dully to herself. _Fear evil? I _am_ evil. I am so horribly evil_…. She shuddered. _And I fear myself_, she realised. _I am terrified of myself. Oh God, help me. I am so scared_….

Another helicopter searchlight stabbed through the darkness far off, weaving in a random pattern across the valley. Susan ducked behind a large rock, keeping an eye on the light. To her relief, it moved off to the right, following the distant road. Once it had gone, Susan took to her heels and ran, her huge feet kicking up clouds of white salt dust. She didn't stop until her breathing was ragged, her throat so dry she could barely swallow. Panting, feeling nauseous, she knew she needed water urgently.

She looked around. From her almost fifty-foot height, she was able to see more than eight miles in any direction. Off in the distance Susan could make out some isolated lights; tiny glowing stars in the darkness. She carefully walked towards them, hoping to find a rain barrel or something of water. To her relief, she was in luck: it was a campsite, with a small number of RVs and tents set up, and she spotted a water tank on top of the kitchen block, well off to one side. She quietly snuck up, crawling on her belly, and gently prised the lid off. The water was warm and brackish, but seemed reasonably clean.

After drinking what she considered the bare minimum of the unpleasant-tasting water, she replaced the lid. Retreating into the concealing night, she stopped under a low cliff nearby and sat down to rest, looking back down on the quiet campsite. She could see a few lights in RV windows, or glowing from tents, and sighed, blinking back tears.

"You're all down there, warm and happy together, and I'm looking in from the outside, cold, alone above you all," she whispered to the night. "It's so hard to be alone…"

For a while she just sat there, lost in her sorrow and loneliness. She thought back to all the fun days she had had back with the other monsters, back at the base. Where she had been accepted, where she had fitted in. Maybe it wasn't heaven, but Mary was right—it was the best place on earth for her, and so as close as she was going to get. It was home, and where her heart was. Where it _was_… Susan thought, dissolving into sobs again as she thought of Cockroach.

Suddenly Susan heard someone call her name. She looked around, but there was no one there. For a moment, she thought she had been hearing things again, but then she realised she was hearing a radio one of the campers was listening to. Desperate for news on what had happened, Susan slowly crept towards the tent the sound was coming from, inching her way along the rocky ground bit by bit. Finally she was as close as she dared get. She now could hear snatches of the radio when the breeze was in the right direction.

"…reports are still coming in on the final toll for the destruction of... …of the Las Vegas Metro Police states that there were eight fatalities, and thirty-seven injuries. One of the fatalities has been confirmed to be the monster Mary Stewart, aka Vampirella... …Ginormica is still at large, believed to be hiding out somewhere in the Pahrump Valley or Death Valley, and is to be considered extremely dangerous. Do not approach… …General Monger of the Monster Force has issued a statement…"

Susan carefully crept even closer, doing her best not to make a sound.

"…has confirmed that Dr Cockroach is in fact still alive, though in a coma and on life support…"

"Alive?" Susan gasped, her heart suddenly soaring. "He's alive! Oh thank you God!" she shouted in joy.

"Who's there? Who's that?" came a voice, and the tent flap opened.

Startled, Susan pushed herself to her feet as a man came out. He spotted her, and yelled out.

"John! It's her! She's here! Run! Run!"

"Who? What?"

"The monster! Ginormica! RUN! For the love of Christ, get away before she kills us! Help! Help us!"

He took off into the desert as his friend poked his head out of the tent and screamed, flying away as fast as he could run. Susan just backed away slowly, her eyes full of tears, until the comforting blanket of night enveloped her again, hiding her hideous form.

Back by the cliff, she dropped to her knees, and took a deep breath. Doc was alive? She hadn't killed him? A tidal wave of relief washed over her, and she felt better than she had ever since that fatal moment when the SWAT team had ordered her to stop. "He's alive…" she breathed to herself, hugging her arms around herself in happiness, tears streaming down her face. For the first time in a long while, they were tears of joy. Then her smile abruptly faded as she realised she had still tried to kill him. She had still tried to kill her closest friend. She had still killed others. She was still evil, a murderer. Doc was alive despite her, not because of her.

* * *

After leaving the campsite, and stumbling for what seemed like hours along a dusty desert road, the sky gradually growing lighter in the east, Susan noticed an old abandoned building off to the left. It looked like it had once been a roadside restaurant, perhaps catering to the few tourists that came this way. The concrete building was now faded and cracked, but was the perfect height for Susan, and she sank down on its flat roof wearily, too depressed to go further. _Further where_, she asked herself, glancing around. _Nowhere, save down to bottomless perdition_. She sat, tears dribbling down, and let her sadness and anger wash over her again.

She thought back to the last time she had found herself sitting on a roof out in the countryside, sobbing. Then it had not been long since her friends had found her, and helped cheer her up by reminding her she was not alone. But not this time. There was no one to come; she had no friends left. She was finally, truly, completely alone. Alone, and with a constant, aching pain of guilt in her heart. Susan thought back to what she had done, the people she had hurt, because of her inability to control her power. Back that night in Modesto, it had been her that was rejected. This time, she had done the rejecting. And that hurt even more. Now she truly was a monster. Not just on the outside, but inside, where it really counted. How could she ever return? She no longer had a home. She no longer had any friends. She no longer had anyone to depend on. It was just her, here out in the wilderness, alone beneath the cold, unending heavens.

The sun would soon be up, and with it, the searching helicopters, seeking her out, hunting the monster. She needed to take shelter for the day. Exhausted, the giantess lay down to rest in a shed behind the restaurant, curling her long legs up as there was not quite enough space for them. Completely drained, aching all over, her heart feeling like it was about to burst, Susan was soon asleep.

* * *

Susan was flying. She was soaring up in the air, high above the land. Far below she could see the lights of an endless city, spread out like a carpet of jewels on the black velvet robe of night.

"Not a bad view, is it?"

Susan turned, and saw Mary flying beside her on wings of sheer gossamer, swooping, soaring, gliding through the air.

"Mary, I'm so sorry…"

"What for?"

"For getting you killed. I should never have tried to run," Susan explained, weeping.

"But you didn't get me killed," Mary explained. "I was long dead. I let my pain, my bitterness, kill me years ago. You have resurrected me. You have saved me."

"What... what do you mean?"

"I was ready to give up once, and you came into my life. Full of innocent joy and kindness. Please, don't let the light that shines out of your face go out. I couldn't stand the darkness that would follow…."

"I'm afraid it's too late for that," Susan said sadly. "I'm afraid the darkness is already upon me. My heart, my soul, are black with sin."

"Is your heart afraid of dancing?" Mary asked, gently waltzing through the air with a shadowy figure Susan couldn't identify. "Is your soul afraid of dying? I have died twice now, and there is nothing to fear."

The young girl smiled broadly, and Susan suddenly noticed she no longer had her fangs. There was colour in her cheeks, and her eyes were not as pale. This, Susan suddenly realised, was Mary as she had originally been, as a human child.

"There is another shore you know, upon the other side," Mary told her. "And on that far, fair shore, where death and despair are strangers, we shall meet again as friends. For the friends we find on our journey through this world return to us time after time. We never really die… because we were never really born."

"Oh, Mary, I miss you… I love you…" Susan whispered, her eyes prickling with tears.

"You're everything I ever wanted to be, Susan…."

Susan started sobbing, and found herself tumbling out of the sky, falling faster and faster.

"Woah there, sister," came a new voice, and she found herself being supported by a titanic female figure in white, with great spreading wings and a face that smiled gently on her.

"Who…. Who are you?" Susan gasped. "Are you an angel?"

"Don't you recognise me? I'm Nancy. We met earlier, in another dream."

"You… you're dead too—Cockroach killed you," Susan said dumbly. "He drove you to your death."

"How can he have killed me when I am here?"

"Here? Where is here?" Susan asked, looking around.

In answer, the huge figure of Nancy pointed to Susan's heart, and at the same time, somehow, Susan found she was the giant one, cradling the dying body of Mary.

"Nancy?"

"Hello," Mary said, opening her eyes. They were red, glowing.

"You're not Nancy," Susan said.

"And you're not Susan," Mary told her.

"Huh? Yes I am."

"Look at yourself in the mirror; see what you are deep inside…"

Susan turned and found herself facing a large mirror, supported by a dozen small flying General Mongers. To her shock, her reflection did not show her familiar features, but those of the human Doctor Coqueroche, before his transformation.

"That's not me…" she stammered.

"Are you sure? Who are you?" came Nancy's voice from behind her, echoed by Mary's. "What are you?"

"I... I'm… Susan. Susan Murphy," Susan stammered. "Ginormica…"

"Who are you?" they repeated in unison.

"What are you?" the face in the mirror asked her.

Susan brought a hand to her face, touching it gently. The face in the mirror did the same. She ran it along her cheek, and down to her jaw. The image of Coqueroche in the mirror reflected her every action precisely.

"I'm… I'm you?"

"No, I'm you!" he told her, laughing. "We're the same! The circle is complete: the hater has become the hated; the victim has become the killer and the killer the victim," the image of Coqueroche taunted her, before turning into her own face and cackling insanely. The mirror shattered, and suddenly Susan was sitting outside the Bellagio with Mary and Nancy, who were both her size. They were all completely drenched in blood, and Susan screamed in shock.

"Do you regret my death?" Mary asked, gazing into her eyes. "Do you regret the deaths you caused?"

Susan nodded, the tears starting again. "I can never forgive myself for that…"

"What is the sense in repentance, if there is no forgiveness?" Mary asked.

"Uh…"

"What is the meaning of forgiveness?" Nancy asked.

"Um…to stop being angry at someone?"

"What is the sense in anger?"

"Because he betrayed me, lied to me," Susan stammered. "Because of what he did to you. I hated him for that. I hated him for being able to do that to me. I hated him for… for crushing my dreams, my love…."

"Why can you not forgive him?"

"I… I tried," Susan said, her eyes pleading. "I wanted to… I just keep seeing your…your bones, keep feeling what you must have felt. I mean, we're both giantesses, both had quantonium in us. We're sort of like sisters. So I look at him, and I keep seeing him as you must have."

"So what do you see when you don't look at him?" Nancy asked.

"When I don't look at him? What do you mean?"

"You must put your faith in what you feel, and not in what you see," the dead giantess told her gently.

"I don't follow you!" Susan shouted, confused.

"You do not hate him," Nancy urged. "It's not what you really feel. So when you do not look at him, you see him truly. Do not allow your guilt at your love for him to fester into worse hate for yourself, blindly directed at him for making you hate yourself. Why, that's just nuts, sister!" she finished with a grin.

"Hate is the fuel, it will play you for a fool, as the hater has a torment that is greater," Mary sang, and giggled.

"It will eat you, consume you, until it has become you," Nancy added, smiling at her. Then, to her horror, Susan found herself being lifted up, and tipped into Nancy's mouth, which was now a nest of vipers, hissing and spitting, and each one had her head. Susan screamed, and suddenly woke up, her heart pounding.

. . .

"Doc…" she moaned, slowly sitting up. With a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach, it was suddenly blindingly clear to Susan that she was just as evil and guilty as Cockroach. His actions too had caused someone to flee, resulting in their death. He too had inflicted great pain on the innocent. Without Cockroach, Nancy would have lived. Without Susan, Mary would still be alive. Without Susan, Cockroach would not be at death's door, would not have suffered his closest friend attempting to kill him out of blind, unreasoning hatred. She was as much a monster as he was. And she felt horribly, nauseatingly, guilty for the harm she had caused. The same hollow, aching feeling of guilt and shame she now realised Cockroach must have carried with him every day for the past fifty years.

"I'm so sorry, Doc," she moaned, hugging her arms around herself. "I'm so, so sorry. The hurt was tearing up my soul; the fury in me made me blind. I could not see beyond my pain to notice yours. I was so tied up in my own little world, my own self-love, that I lost sight of what was important."

Susan got to her feet, and wandered out to the empty road, looking up at the stars. The sun had set a few hours ago, and the great band of the Milky Way stretched overhead. She glimpsed a shooting star off to the left, a brief, shining blaze of glory.

"Bob was right, you know, Mary," Susan told the stars. "This thing just dropped on my head. I did nothing to earn it, nothing to merit it. I'm not special in any way. I'm just a small and limited girl from Modesto, California. What made me think I could handle the changes, the responsibility, of this power?" She swiped in frustration at the tall sign that stood near the abandoned restaurant, smashing it to the ground with a single blow. The giantess looked at her hand, and sighed. "You told me that power is nothing without control, Mary. I got angry at you then, thinking you were being arrogant. But I guess, deep down, the reason I got so angry is because I knew you were right. I can't control my power. I can't!"

Susan picked up the fallen sign, holding it above her head. "Take this cup away from me!" she shouted, and then flung it far into the darkness. A few seconds later there was a distant crash as the sign landed on the desert. She stood there, breathing deeply, listening to see if the noise had attracted attention, but there was no sound at all from the vast and silent night.

She closed her eyes with a sigh. "It's all about discipline. That's what you said, wasn't it, Mary?" she whispered to herself. "When you study, you learn discipline. And when you have everything literally dropped on your head, like I have, it just makes you arrogant and selfish. Like I am. Monger was right—I needed training. I needed to learn how to cope with the responsibility I was given. Everyone was right about everything. And I was wrong. So… so wrong…."

Susan sniffed, and wiped her nose. "You know, Mary, I used to think that being a monster was a curse. Then I thought it was a blessing. Now I realise that it is neither. It just _is_. It is not good or bad—it is what I do with it that makes it good or bad. And… and I've been doing bad with it, Mary. It's my fault. Not Ginormica's. It's not my strength that ruined everything. It's my weakness. My weakness as a person. I just wish you hadn't had to die to make me realise this."

She buried her face in her hands, and wept bitterly. How had it all gone so wrong? She was unable to deal with the responsibility, unable to control her power. That hadn't mattered so much when she was living a quiet life, with her friends, and with no reason to get angry. She thought back to when Monger had shown her the nude photos that Derek had released to the world. Yes, she had got quite angry then. But it had been a brief, controlled, anger. No one had been hurt. But now? Now dozens were dead or injured, thanks to her. And worst of all, she had tried to kill her best friend, thanks to her inability to control her power, her anger. She had failed. Utterly.

Susan looked around at the vast, empty desert, the pale salt flat shining in the moonlight. She knew that there was no hope. And, more than anything, she knew that she had to atone for her sins. Tomorrow she would start back to the city, allow herself to be captured and thrown in prison again. And if she were not even given that choice, if she were shot on sight? What more fitting end could there be for her now? What right did she have to exist in a world that could not accept her, that was not made for her, and that she had rejected so violently? One way or the other, either in prison or in a grave, she could no longer be a part of it. Susan let her tears flow freely as she slumped to the hard ground, supplicating herself as the infinite stars circled in the inky blackness far above her.

"I don't know if you can hear me, or if you're even there..." she whispered. "I don't know if you would listen… to a giant's prayer. Yes, I know I'm just a killer…. I shouldn't speak to you. But God, please help the monsters, hated from birth. Show them the mercy that I am not worth…."

The lonely giantess looked up weakly as another bright beam of light stabbed down through the darkness. This time she remained still. She would not fight any more; she would not resist. There was nowhere left to run, nowhere to hide. No matter how far or fast she ran, she could not outpace her tormenter, because her tormenter was herself. Everywhere she went, she saw Mary just out of the corner of her eye, or heard her light, soft voice on the wind. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Mary's pale body, and Cockroach's terrified eyes as her foot came down on him. Closing her eyes and whispering a silent prayer, she stood and spread her arms wide as the searchlight spotted her, stabbing down from the darkness. As the light bathed her, Susan felt as if a great burden had been lifted from her soul. She felt as if the light were caressing her, holding her, bearing her up like a feather wafted in the wind.

To her shock, she suddenly realised that it was. It was hard to see through the harsh glare, but she could see a gigantic spacecraft hovering above her, which was slowly pulling her up towards the open hatch on its underside. She struggled and fought, but could not break free of the tractor beam. The light grew brighter and brighter, blinding her. Susan shut her eyes, and resigned herself to her fate. This time there would be no one to rescue her, no one to save her. She would meet her fate alone….

.

.

* * *

**NOTES AND COMMENTS**: A longish chapter here, sorry. But it couldn't be split in two as it deals with a crucial part—perhaps the most crucial part-of Susan's journey in this story.

So, what's the facts behind this fiction?

Again, the title itself is from a loose translation of the Dies Irae part of the Requiem Mass. I recommend checking out the Verdi version. I used the translation available at wwnorton dot com, the second result from a google search for "Dies iræ! Dies illa, Solvet sæclum in favilla" if anyone is interested.

"I have become Death, the destroyer of worlds," was said by Robert Oppenheimer after the first nuclear weapon test (Trinity) back in 1945.

"You're an armour-plated motherfrakker!" is a slightly more PG version of the original line from "Casualties of War," one of the few war films I like.

The Mayor of Las Vegas is Carol Goodham, as of 2011 (this story is set in 2012—it's just ever so slightly AU from canon).

I could tell you where I got the classified materials on the super-secret KX-76 low Earth orbit spy satellite, but then I'd have to kill you...

Potosi Mountain is the range of hills due west of southern Vegas. The geographical descriptions of Susan's flight are as accurate as I could make them, including roads and valleys and hills. I can show you on a map exactly how she got to Death Valley. Camp Potosi exists as described, including the vegetation, though I cannot tell what is inside the long building by the pool there.

The abandoned restuarant inside Death Valley is made up, however. I wanted to create a parallel with the original story of her sitting on the roof of a building, evaluating her life. With "_Yea, though I walk through the Valley of Death, I will fear no evil_," Susan is slightly misquoting Psalms 23:4, "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil." The campground is also made up.

Viewing distance from 50 feet was calculated online at 8.7 miles. Susan's eyes are a bit below that, of course. So "over eight miles" seems right.

The dream sequence was one of the hardest bits to write. Helped by some blatant plagiarism for some bits from people who did it better: "Please, don't let that light that shines out of your face go out. I couldn't stand the darkness that would follow" is adapted from Xena, as is the "For the friends we find on our journey through this world return to us time after time. We never really die… because we were never really born" bit. I just changed them a little. Not to mention "Hate is the fuel, it will play you for a fool, as the hater has a torment that is greater," which is modified from Xena's Illusia episode. "There is another shore you know, upon the other side" is, in contrast, taken from Lewis Carroll. Let it not be said that I am not eclectic with my plagiarism...

"Take this cup away from me!" is taken from the Bible, Luke 22:42, in the Garden of Gethesame. A reference to an unavoidable destiny.

And of course her final prayer is taken from the Disney song "God Help the Outcasts," slightly modified as usual...

Chapter 25, "For What Shall it Profit a Giant?" should be up soon. Anyway, comments, critiques, reviews, and all that are most welcome. All appreciated, even those I cannot reply to directly like SusanMurphy, SomeRandomReader, and Queencgamer. Discussing the story in review responses has been most helpful, thanks!

[posted **3 Mary 2013**]—that was a typo for "May" but I think I'll leave it to honour Lady Mary...

[23-6-13] Minor revisions/corrections/changed one paragraph order.

［5-Aug-13] Some minor changes to make it more clear that she spends three nights in the desert.


	25. For What Shall it Profit a Giant?

**25. For What Shall it Profit a Giant?**

She felt chilly. The cold slowly penetrated her, and she became aware that she was lying down on a hard surface. Her brain was fuzzy, filled with strange images. Horrible images. Images of her as a rampaging, destructive monster. Of her as a killer, of her crushing the defenceless body of her friend. Susan moaned and curled up tighter, not wanting to open her eyes and face her new reality.

Eventually she heard a low buzzing, and found herself being lifted up by what felt like a dozen cold hands. Startled, she opened her eyes, and realised she was being supported by something that looked for all the world like a mechanical octopus, but with more arms. She screamed, and started to struggle, snapping one of the arms holding her leg, but another soon took its place.

"Please relax," came a gentle rich baritone. Susan twisted around, and to her horror, she saw a familiar alien being, floating on a familiar hovering device.

"Gallaxhar! No! Not again! Let me go!"

"You are carbon-based lifeform Susan Jane Murphy, known as Ginormica. I am silicon-based lifeform Xalthazar, of the Panthalassa Security Force. Greetings. You are perfectly safe."

"Safe?" Susan screeched, yanking another arm off her as she struggled to get to her feet. To her horror, she realised that the robot arms were neatly slicing up the tattered remains of her dress and panties, leaving her completely naked. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" Susan gasped.

"I do apologise," the alien said smoothly. "Normally you would be unconscious for this stage of the process. We miscalculated."

"You're goddam right you miscalculated," Susan yelled, suddenly twisting sideways and wrenching herself free. She rolled on the ground and was up in a flash, grabbing the small blue-grey alien.

"You really shouldn't do that," the alien said as Susan felt a sharp pain in her back. "We mean you no harm, but we will defend ourselves if you attempt to harm us." There was another, more agonizing bolt of pain, and Susan dropped to her knees, reluctantly opening her fist to let the alien go.

"Thank you," the alien said.

Looking around as she stood up, Susan noticed the alien was not alone. There were several others, on hoverbikes and carrying weapons. She glared at the creature, holding her arms protectively across her naked body in an automatic gesture. "Gallaxhar tried and failed to conquer this planet. I assure you, you won't succeed either."

"Please understand me, Susan Jane Murphy. We have no desire to conquer your planet. I am glad that you prevented the renegade Gallaxhar from doing so."

"Good, because if you did—wait, did you say 'renegade'?"

"Gallaxhar is the most dangerous criminal our civilisation knows. We are charged with the task of tracking him down and bringing him to justice. He destroyed an entire solar system, killing billions, to obtain a sample of the forbidden material."

"You mean quantonium? If you've come for my quantonium, you can have it," she said in a dull voice.

The alien's outer eyes rotated twice, then blinked. "You would… give it up? Just like that?"

Susan nodded. "I've become a monster, evil; a threat to my friends. I can't handle the power, the responsibility. I've failed. I thought I could handle it. I thought I was strong. I wasn't. I was weak. Pathetic. I don't like the monster I've become." She sighed, and wiped her eye. "I would prefer to live a small, limited life as the person I used to be than one as the arrogant hero with no friends I have become."

"I am glad you are cooperative," the alien said. "This is a very important mission we are on. Gallaxhar is an insane astrophysicist who was determined to get his tentacles on quantonium, and let nothing hinder him in his quest to dominate the galaxy. He destroyed our home planet, killing nearly ten billion, in the experiment that fused our two universes for a femtosecond and brought a chunk of quantonium into existence. That chunk was flung out at superluminal speeds before slowing enough to be caught in the gravitational well of your sun, and impacted on your planet."

"On me," Susan told him. "It hit me."

"Much of it did, yes," Xalthazar explained. "The asteroid broke up in your atmosphere, however, with the rest impacting in a wide area over the other side of the planet. We sent a robot probe to recover that quantonium, in an area locally known as _Roma_."

"That's what that robot digger was doing?" Susan gasped. "Well I'll be! Bob was right! It _was_ looking for its car keys—I mean, something alien that got dropped there…."

"Yes. It is vital that we recover it all," Xalthazar explained. "Quantonium is the most powerful substance in the universe. This is why we must destroy all the quantonium Gallaxhar brought into this universe."

"Destroy it? How?"

"It will be sent into a supermassive black hole. Once past the event horizon, no one can recover it. It will fall into the singularity, and be destroyed. Our physicists theorize it will actually be returned to its original universe."

"Gone, for ever?"

"It must be this way. The power of even a single atom of quantonium can be drawn on indefinitely, and if enough remains unaccounted for, it will be able to destroy worlds in the wrong hands. Which is why the Security Force fleet is here. We must secure all the quantonium on your planet."

"There are few who can master it," another alien told her, swooping down towards her on its hoverbike. "Nor can your military forces be trusted with it. It provides tremendous power, but power without control is chaos, and chaos is dangerous."

"Yes, it is…" Susan remembered what Mary had told her, and felt the tears start as Mary's loss overwhelmed her again. She sank to the floor, burying her face in her hands and sobbing.

"Exactly," Xalthazar added, taking no notice of Susan's tears. "As I told you, we must recover all the quantonium that has entered our universe. So if you would permit the robot to finish preparing you, we may begin the extraction process. The quantum entanglement skin will assist that process."

"Quantum…entanglement…?"

"It acts to focus the quantum interaction between the two universes, like energy conduits. I expect Gallaxhar would have used a similar one."

"That's what Doc said," Susan started to say, then suddenly she remembered what she had done to him. A sharp pang of guilt and worry shot through her. "Doc, Doc…" she whispered.

"Therefore you will need to submit to being covered in the quantum entanglement skin," the alien said. "We must have you alive and conscious to extract it, but you do not have to be comfortable. Therefore, if you do resist, we shall make you uncomfortable until you no longer resist."

"Do what you have to do," Susan told them dully, kneeling naked on the floor. "Just get rid of this stuff inside me."

The robot arms once again lifted Susan up. She was then surrounded by a series of vertical pillars, which produced a pale yellow light, then began rotating around her. They stopped, and then narrowly focused beams of gold light shone on her wounds.

"Skin and flesh trauma healed. Detecting and removing foreign metallic substances within the flesh," the computer's voice noted in a deep bass voice. "Purification of epidermis commencing."

In a few moments all her injuries were healed, even her gunshot wounds, and her skin and hair were clean again.

Other arms descended from the ceiling, and proceeded to apply strips of some silver metal to her body, while yet others rapidly stretched a skin-tight dark blue metallic fabric between them. In a few minutes, Susan found she was wearing a suit identical to the one Gallaxhar had put her in.

"Bring in the mobile containment device," Xalthazar ordered.

"You don't need to imprison me," Susan said dully. "I won't resist."

"You say so, but we dare not take the chance you are trying to deceive us into trusting you. I am afraid we cannot risk quantonium falling into the wrong hands. No one would ever give it up willingly."

Susan looked at her hands. The same hands that had wrought such destruction. The same hands that had cradled her dying friend. "I wouldn't have, once," Susan admitted softly. "But now… now I know that these are the wrong hands."

"You are wise indeed to have such self-awareness. Nevertheless, we cannot risk any problems."

Susan sighed, and nodded. "Very well. I submit. Do what you need to do."

There was a quick buzz and a blur, and Susan found herself surrounded by the same pinkish-red glowing force field beams Gallaxhar had trapped her in. She gently prodded one, remembering that terrible night she thought the world was doomed. It buzzed, sending a mild electric shock through her.

"I wouldn't do that," Xalthazar told her. "That force field is impenetrable."

Susan laughed softly. "No it's not. I could break out of this. I broke through Gallaxhar's one."

The alien looked at her, all four eyes wide. "It would take an immense amount of strength to overcome an electromagnetic force field. If you possess such power, there is very little that could stop you."

"I'm good with pickle jars too," Susan joked. For some reason her heart was lighter than it had been for ages. Once she was back to normal, perhaps her life would start getting back to normal, and under control. She knew she faced prison for her actions, but anything would be better than remaining a monster. Perhaps becoming small again was the only way she could return to being the caring, sweet person she had always thought of herself as. At any rate, she could not risk hurting anyone else.

"We're here," Xalthazar told her after a few moments. "Step inside the extraction chamber, please."

Susan found herself surrounded by three glass-like petals which were closing on her. She allowed them to seal themselves around her, and braced herself for the pain of removal. Her vision was filled with a bright green mist, glowing brightly, swirling in intricate patterns. She felt a tingling, and a sudden coldness, and then the mist was gone and the glass cage was gone and she was just plain old Susan Murphy again.

"Thank you for your cooperation," the alien said.

"I was expecting it to hurt more," Susan admitted. "It hurt when Gallaxhar took it."

"That was because you resisted. Because you believed you should keep it. Now you do not: you have let your power go of your own free will."

"I was never worthy to be Ginormica, I know that now," Susan said sadly, feeling nervous and alone. She felt dizzy, light yet strangely heavy.

"Perhaps not. But you are worthy of being you," the alien said in a gentle voice.

Susan looked up at its bulbous head, its four eyes, and smiled sadly. "I'm glad you got it out. Now maybe I can get back to a normal life, where I am no longer a monster."

"On behalf of the Government in Exile of Panthalassa, we thank you, Susan Jane Murphy. Once we have secured all the quantonium, we shall then deal with the renegade Gallaxhar."

"What… what will you do with me now?"

"We will return you to your home, which your records place in a settlement near the western coast of this landmass called Mod Esto," Xalthazar said. "Follow the guard."

Weeping softly, Susan did so. She was not even sure now that she would not be killed, but she no longer cared. She knew that the moment she returned to Modesto the police would find her and take her away anyway, to stand trial for murder. She would rot in prison for years. But at least this way she could eventually return to a normal life. A small and limited life, because she was too small and limited to handle anything else.

"Wait here," the guard told her after a long walk, leaving her standing on a large round disc with strange markings on it. In a few seconds, Susan was enveloped by a bright glow, forcing her to shut her eyes. She could feel herself floating, being lowered gently down. The light faded, and Susan found herself standing outside her parents' new home on the outskirts of Modesto on a sunny morning in late summer. Everything looked so normal it was scary. For the first time in ages, she found herself looking up, not down, at houses, power poles, and trees. It would be easy to believe that none of the past couple of months had happened. Except for the painfully stark memories that constantly haunted her mind.

She looked up higher, and saw a huge spaceship, with the same bulbous three-armed design as Gallaxhar's, hovering above her. The glowing hatch underneath one of the arms closed, and the ship slowly moved off, drifting unhurriedly through the air in utter silence. In a few minutes it had gathered speed and was gone from sight. Susan sighed, and walked over to her parents' house. There was no one home of course, as they were not scheduled to return until the end of the month.

She wandered around to the back yard, and looked up at the huge barn that had been built for her. It was immense, and she shuddered to think that she used to be that size. No wonder people were scared of her. She'd be scared of her too, she decided. Especially if she were just a small girl, like Amy. _That's one brave kid_, Susan thought to herself. _I don't think I could have been that brave, to come and see me, to go on TV and defend me—I guess she won't be doing that again. Nobody will…_. Susan sighed, and then groaned as pain shot through her stomach, reminding her she hadn't eaten in days. Her parents would have food, she knew. And cold, clean, pure water.

Dizzy with anticipation and hunger, she fished out the spare back door key from the peg basket by the clothes line, where her parents always kept it. Once inside, she made a beeline for the kitchen. After taking a long drink straight from the tap, she raided the pantry. Susan could not remember the last time a meal had tasted so good. Not only had it been days since she last ate, it was the first time in months that she was able to experience normal textures. She ate and ate until she could not manage another bite.

"Sorry for eating all your food, Mom, Dad," she said out aloud, feeling very stuffed. "But I really needed that. It was sooo good." She paused, and touched her throat. "Hello? Susan? My name is Susan. Gosh, it sounds weird to have a high voice again. Well, Susan, you'd better get used to it. You're back to normal. Completely… normal," she sighed, looking at her fingers. Her small, delicate fingers. "It's better this way," she told herself. "Better for everyone."

She quickly washed up, and then went to the kitchen phone. She stood before it for a few minutes, breathing deeply, trying to summon up the courage for what she had to do next. Then she lifted the receiver, and dialled a familiar number.

"Uh, hello, Uncle Rick? This is, uh, Susan. That's right, Susan. Yes, I'm fine, thanks. Though I'm back to my normal size. Yeah, not a giant any more…. Yes, it was those aliens. Anyway, I'm really, really sorry about… well, about everything. I'm at my parents' place, and I'll be…. I'll be waiting for you here. I won't resist. Please… please don't take too long. I'm scared…."

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Susan took the barn key from by the back door, and headed out to the huge structure that had once been her new bedroom. She unlocked the smaller, normal-sized door set in the large door, and stepped into the vast chamber. Suddenly she felt very small indeed as she looked around from her new perspective. There were the guest rooms, the wide platforms for normal people to interact with her twenty-five feet up, and even higher were the surrounding walkways. She had once talked eye-to-eye with her father way up there, when she had been standing down here on the floor. It was hard to conceive just how immense Ginormica had been.

Susan climbed up to the topmost walkways, and looked down. The view was both familiar, and strangely alien. Before all this had happened, she would have felt dizzy looking down from this height. Now it felt normal, and the feeling of normality was itself strange. Susan wasn't sure which felt more unreal: her memories of being nearly fifty feet tall, or being only five and a half feet. It would take a while to get used to life at this level again.

She headed down to the main mid-level platform, where Rene and Mindy had danced that night, while she had been relegated to the main floor, unable to properly interact with them. Moving over to the stereo, she set it to play _Susie Q_ on infinite loop, and then started dancing slowly by herself, tears in her eyes as she thought of what her parents and friends would think of her now. Her father had been so proud, that time in Washington when she had danced with him after being awarded the Medal of Freedom. Now she had betrayed that faith in her; betrayed it completely and utterly. Thoughts of her father reminded her of how he would tuck her in at night as a child after reading a fairy story—Susan had loved hearing about princesses in towers, rescued by handsome princes, and battles with fearsome monsters.

"You remember when you called me your little princess, Daddy?" she whispered, hugging her arms around her body. "And now it seems I'm the fearsome monster instead…."

"_Oh Susie Q, baby I love you, Susie Q_…" came the song.

"Oh Daddy too, I love you…" Susan whispered, stopping dancing and burying her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking.

Wiping away her tears, Susan wandered around into her bedroom as the song started playing again. Her bed looked huge, bringing home the true size of Ginormica even more immediately. She made her way down to it and walked awkwardly across the immense blanket, then bent down to pick up her old Puss-in-Boots doll. Then she settled down to wait. It wouldn't be long, she knew. She was ready for them. Ready to accept her fate. Fresh tears flowed down her face as she curled into a ball and hugged her childhood comforter, wishing beyond wishing that everything that had happened was just another nightmare and that she really was only eight years old again.

* * *

"General, we have her!"

Monger looked up from the giant display table in the Situation Room buried deep underground in Area 52, where half a dozen senior Pentagon officials and generals, including the United States President, were busily conferring, with more present on screens around the room. "What? Who?" he snarled.

"Ginormica, sir!"

"Where?"

"Modesto, General!"

"What's she doing there?" Monger asked. His eyes narrowed. "Are there any casualties?"

"Negative, General. She showed up at her parents' home. And she's… well, apparently not ginormous any longer."

"How?"

"Couldn't say, sir."

"Probably connected with the alien ship that hovered over Modesto briefly," an official noted.

"Which one was that?" Monger barked.

"This one," the official said, pointing to a blinking symbol on the display table, which was showing a map of the overall south-western part of United States. A dozen blinking symbols were slowly moving over the map, congregating over central Nevada.

"First Ginormica goes on a rampage, and now we have a fleet of alien ships overhead," Monger snarled. "Monsters and aliens, all causing problems at the same time." He sighed, and ran his hand through his crew cut. "Right, first things first. Send word to the Modesto PD: Ginormica is to be taken in, and held until my arrival. She is to be treated well. She is our prisoner, not theirs."

"What's going to happen to her, General?" President Obama asked.

"Court martial, Mr President," Monger stated. "I'm sorry, but that's the way it has to be."

Obama pursed his lips. "Very well. This is a big enough disaster as it is. Half the Las Vegas Strip damaged, dozens of casualties, a dangerous monster on the loose, and to top it all off, an invasion by an entire fleet of alien spacecraft! The Republicans are out for blood, and Wolf News keeps replaying the medal ceremony and accusing me of being soft on monsters. Asking why I freed them in the first place."

"That was… after the San Francisco Attack, when they saved…" Monger started to explain.

"I know that!" Obama shot, cutting him off. "You know that! The GOP knows that! Damned Wolf News knows that! But do you think they're going to let that stop them from using this to attack me?" He took a deep breath. "I have a press conference in half an hour. General Monger, I want to at least be able to tell the American people that we have captured the Monster of Las Vegas. If not, I will be forced to reconsider your rank and posting. Do I make myself clear?"

"Sir!" Monger snapped a salute, and hurried out of the room. He strode along a few corridors and threw open a door to a reception room where Link and Bob were waiting.

"Donner and Blitzen! Vampirella dead, Ginormica on the loose, Cockroach in intensive care! Monster rampages! Alien invasions! I am sick to death of all monsters and aliens!"

"What… what should we do?" Link asked quietly. "Get after Susan—I mean, Ginormica?"

Monger shook his head. "I'll do that myself. I'm taking a chopper to Modesto immediately to get her. Then she'll be transferred back to Area 52, and held here until her court-martial."

"What's going to happen to her?" Link asked nervously.

"The question is, what's going to happen to us? To Monster Force?" Monger snapped. "The President is livid! We are skating on very thin ice here!"

"Ooh, I love ice skating!" Bob called. "Are we going to fight more aliens? This is going to be fun!"

"Silence!" Monger snapped. "The President has not mobilized us. He has been contacted by the leader of the alien fleet, who says they are here in peace. I don't trust those slimy alien scum myself, but it's not our place to act! We follow orders, dammit! And the next monster who disobeys an order I will personally skin alive and feed to my pet goat! If I had a pet goat, that is. God damn you Ginormica, you are in so much trouble!"

* * *

Susan heard sirens in the distance, rapidly getting closer, and shivered in terror. What would happen to her? Nothing good, of course. She deserved everything that was going to happen to her, but it was still going to be very hard. She remained on the huge bed, clutching her doll, her heart pounding, until she heard the familiar voice of her uncle.

Crawling to the edge of the bed, she saw him and half a dozen other policemen standing, waiting for her. Susan nodded, and slowly headed for the stairs to climb down, still carrying Pussy-Boots.

"Susan. I… I'm sorry it had to come to this. If you could, ah, come with us," Uncle Rick said, gesturing. "General Monger has asked that we… that we hold you until he arrives."

His words were calm, but Susan could tell it was costing him a great deal to have to arrest his niece. "I'm so sorry," she whispered as she passed him. "I'm so sorry. It's over now. Everything's over."

She was led out to a police car, tears streaming down her face as the press cameras flashed and questions were shouted out. But Susan didn't hear any of them. In her mind, the flashing cameras and police lights were the neon lights of the Strip, and their calls were the cries of the people she had terrorized on her rampage of destruction. Hugging her stuffed toy, she stared out the window as the car slowly drove to the police station downtown, and meekly entered her cell when they arrived. Susan sat on the hard bed, her knees under her chin, and looked around at the blank concrete walls, blinking back her tears. This was her life now. This was what her pride and arrogance had brought her to. And she completely deserved it. Because she had been unable to forgive. Unable to understand what made a monster, and what made a person. It had taken becoming everything she hated to understand why she had lost everything she loved.

.

* * *

**MANGLER'S NOTES**: I have decided that Gallaxhar's destruction of his home planet didn't exactly endear him to the remaining populace of his species. Anyway, some end notes for those who are curious...

The title is, of course, taken from the Bible, KJV: "For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?" (Mark 8:36). The meaning for Susan and being a giant should be nicely obvious.

While there are sound reasons why silicon-based life would be tricky, it's an SF trope, so I've used it, since Gallaxhar was on about "carbon-based" so much.

"Panthalassa" was the vast global ocean that surrounded the supercontinent Pangaea, during the late Paleozoic and the early Mesozoic years. No real reason for choosing the name - I just like it. I usually prefer real, though obscure, words to making up my own, as they are usually more linguistically sound. Unlike something like "Xalthazar" for example... (Which is based slightly on "Mathazar" from "Galaxy Quest".)

Here we get to see the process by which Gallaxhar dressed Susan originally. Still not sure how the army did it, mind...

And we find out what that Rome robot (Romebot?) was doing. It wasn't just a MacGuffin to get Our Heroes to Europe...

In case anyone doesn't know, "Donner" and "Blitzen" are German for "Thunder" and "Lightning," and are not meant here as a direct reference to sleigh reindeers.

Three more chapters plus epilogue to go at this stage. I want to get all three complete before I start posting them, as they're intimately linked, especially the first two.

[posted 7 May 2013]

[edited slightly, 22 July 2013. Did I say "three" more chapters? Ha ha...]


	26. Two Pale Figures Ache in Silence

**26. Two Pale Figures Ache in Silence**

Susan opened her eyes blearily at the sound of the cell door clanging open. She had been dozing fitfully in the hours since her incarceration, still exhausted from her nights on the run, but unable to rest properly as her heart rate was high with fear and worry.

"Get up, Major," came Monger's familiar rasp. "Now!"

Susan started, and tried to get up and salute at the same time, but got her feet entwined in the blanket and tumbled off the bed onto the floor instead. She kicked the blanket away, and stood up, saluting.

"General, I'm sorry, sir. I—"

"Not another word. Not. One. Word," Monger told her, his eyes coldly furious. "You will be transported to your home base, there to await your general court-martial. A pre-trial investigation under Article 32 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice will be conducted, unless waived by the accused. Which means you. As an accused before a court-martial, you will be entitled to free legal representation by a military defence counsel, and can also retain civilian counsel at your own expense. Following which a Judge Advocate General will be assigned, and a hearing convened in accordance with the UCMJ, after which you will be transferred to a penal site to be determined to serve out your sentence. Do I make myself clear?" he finished in a shout.

Weeping, Susan nodded.

"Good. Now get in the car."

Susan nodded again, then followed Monger out, her steps heavy. She was directed to sit in the back, next to an armed officer, and they left. After a few moments, they arrived at the airport, where Susan was ordered to sit in the waiting army helicopter. She meekly complied, still hugging her childhood toy. The helicopter took off, and landed at Area 52 an hour later. During the entire trip, no one had spoken to her and she had spoken to no one. Despite being her normal size again, and surrounded by people, Susan felt more isolated than ever.

* * *

The door to the monster common room slid open. Link glanced up from his card game, looking past Bob, and his jaw dropped open.

"Is your mouth broken?" Bob asked, putting down a queen of hearts.

"It's her… she's… back. And… and small…" Link muttered.

"Whose back is small? Mine? I don't have a back!" Bob said happily. Link reached over and shoved Bob's eye through his head so it popped out the other side. It then blinked rapidly as its owner realised what it was looking at.

"Susie Q!" he shouted happily, slithering over to Susan and engulfing her in his cytoplasmic matrix.

"Regurgitate that prisoner!" Monger ordered.

Bob did so, looking surprised and guilty. Susan slid out, covered in slime.

"Prisoner?" Link asked, loping over on his knuckles.

"Major Murphy is to be held here pending a general court martial," Monger informed them as Susan remained on the floor, curled into a small ball and tightly hugging something the tall fish-ape couldn't make out.

Link whistled, and looked about to say something. Then his expression hardened. "Yeah, I guess I'm not surprised. Why here?"

"It's her assigned posting," Monger said. "Court-martial regulations merely require that a defendant be confined. Imprisonment comes later. She'll be in a cell in the old common room, however, and her meals will be taken there as well. Murphy, you are hereby restricted to your cell and the two common rooms. Under no circumstances whatsoever are you to leave these areas without permission and an officer escort. Is that understood?"

Susan sat up and nodded, weeping.

"How's Doc doing?" Link asked, not daring to meet Susan's eyes. He wasn't sure how he would respond to her tear-streaked face.

"He's having another operation right now," Monger told him. "His fourth, I think. Or fifth."

Susan moaned, and started crying harder than ever.

"Yeah, well, the docs say he's doing well…" Monger added. "Considering. Oh don't cry, Little Debbie. Crying just makes my elbows ache. Follow me to your cell."

Susan picked up Pussy-Boots and stood up, shaking the last of Bob's goo off her. She trudged after the general down the connecting corridor, her head bowed and tears falling. The door slid open as they neared, and Susan stepped out into the familiar old common room, her first home here at the Monster Containment Facility. The chamber was immense, vast, soaring far above her. She had always thought it a large room even when she was a giant, but now it was terrifyingly huge and empty. It seemed to take ages to cross the wide floor, and, after so long being nearly twelve tons, her footsteps sounded eerily quiet.

Monger stopped outside a cell door, and opened it with a touch. Susan glanced briefly inside before returning to staring at the floor. It was quite small, and the only furniture was a simple bed built into the wall. There was a screen extending across much of the far end.

"Through there's your toilet and shower," Monger told her, pointing. "Now get inside. Meals will be at the regular times." He tossed her a standard-issue MCF jumpsuit. "You'll be wearing this from now on. Leave the alien suit on your floor in the morning."

"Uh, General, sir…" Susan said nervously. "Would I be… be able to see Doc?"

"Not now," he said gruffly. "He's in surgery."

"Will he be… will he be okay?" Susan asked, looking up at the general with tears in her eyes.

Monger's stern visage relaxed briefly. "He's out of the worst of it," he told her. "But he's still in a coma. You will also be allowed to see your parents. But only briefly."

"Thank… thank you, sir," Susan said, her lip trembling.

Monger left the cell, then turned back to her. "Oh, and one more thing. The government has changed your name back to Susan Murphy."

The door slammed shut, its echo reverberating, and Susan was alone. Fear and terror overwhelmed her, the adrenalin almost painful. Depressed and scared, she hugged her arms tight around herself, feeling more alone than she ever had in her life. There was no one to hold her, comfort her. No one could help her. She was utterly powerless. Giving in to utter despair, the young woman slumped down in a corner, buried her face in her arms, and began to cry softly. Her life was over.

* * *

"General, the leader of the alien fleet will be meeting with President Obama and other world leaders on video. The President is in the Situation Room, and wants you to join him."

"Me?" Monger asked, putting his pen back on his desk and looking at the major with surprise. "What about Klaus—I mean General Putsch? Aliens are his section."

"General K.O. Putsch is already there, sir. However it was your division that was responsible for defending the Earth before, and the President wants you in on this too."

"Not that we have much left to defend the Earth with," Monger noted. "Against a whole fleet? Without Ginormica and Cockroach, we don't stand a chance."

"General, the aliens have said several times they are here in peace," the major noted.

"Yeah, and did they add 'and you shall all die'?" Monger shot back. "Because they will, mark my words. You can't trust aliens! Tell the President I'm on my way."

"Sir!"

When the major had left, Monger pushed back his chair and stood up. "I'm too old for this crap," he muttered, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was already after midnight, and he had had a long day, with very little sleep the night before. He adjusted his uniform, smoothing out some of the rumples, and gave his badges a quick polish. Then he marched out of his office.

A few minutes later he arrived in the Situation Room, after passing through its gauntlet of security—now tripled as the president was inside.

"Mr President, General Monger of the Monster Force is here," someone said, and Obama glanced up, his eyes bleary. Monger was slightly pleased to see that the president appeared to have had even less sleep than him. He stood at attention, and saluted.

"General, glad you could join us," Obama said. "What do you know about the intentions of these aliens?"

"Well, sir, it's hard to say. The last time an alien vessel appeared, it came with the intention to conquer."

"That does not appear to be the case this time," Obama noted. "Their leader has offered me an official apology for Gallaxhar's attempt on behalf of something called the Panthalassa Union of Worlds. Something like our United Nations, I gather. At any rate, they want permission to recover the rest of this material, this, uh… quantonium, that the robot excavator was digging up in Rome."

"Sir! Won't that destroy part of the city?"

"Their leader, a… er, being… named Demogorgonzola, I think, has assured us they will use non-destructive tractor beam technology to remove it. He apologised for the destruction of the Roman countryside, explaining that they hadn't realised the area was inhabited by sentient beings."

"And you actually believe him?" Monger ejaculated, raising an eyebrow. "Sorry, sir. Not my place."

"I believe we can trust him, yes," another general interjected.

"Klaus? Why would you think that?" Monger asked, looking at the new general. Klaus Oswald Putsch was a short, squat strongly-built man with a grey crew-cut. Obama looked over at him, then back to Monger.

"You two aren't brothers, are you?" he asked curiously.

"No sir! I can provide my long-form birth certificate if requested, sir," Monger told him. "I was born right here in these United States! General Putsch is German."

"German by birth, American by nationality and loyalty, Mr President," Putsch told him with the slightest hint of a Teutonic accent.

"I don't doubt it, General," Obama assured him. "Carry on, please."

"Thank you sir. We have no reason to believe that these aliens are inherently hostile. Their actions have been transparent and above-board, and they have offered compensation for the damage the robot probes have caused."

"Compensation?" Monger looked sceptical. "What sort of compensation."

"Technological assistance," Putsch told him. "Need to know basis only, sorry, Warren," the German-born general added with the slightest hint of a sneer.

Monger's face flushed, but he controlled himself, and turned to the president.

"May I ask what you need my input on, Mr President?"

"Defensive systems, General Monger. Your team is the only one that's been on one of these ships. I've read the reports, but was hoping to get your insight, especially into that plasma weapon that was directed at your plane."

"Yes, sir. I'll do my best. Are you going to require my monsters at any stage?"

"I hope not," the president told him. "You understand, they're a political hot potato right now."

"Best you wait on the sidelines, Warren," Putsch grinned. "Let the alien experts take care of this one."

"I just hope you handle it better than you did the first time," Monger growled, looking furious.

* * *

The buzzer was sounding. Susan's eyes reluctantly fluttered open, and focused on the grey steel walls of her cell. For a brief instant she was afraid that she was still Ginormica, back in those terrifying first days after her capture. Then she remembered. She was back to normal Susan now, but she was still a prisoner. And this time, unlike Ginormica, she knew she deserved it. She had become everything the government had locked her away for being.

"A monster," she sighed to herself. She was sick of being a monster. Maybe now she could be a person again.

Susan was suddenly thrown off the bed as it packed itself in the wall automatically, and hit the steel floor with a thump. The same thing had happened on her very first morning, she remembered. That had been a huge noise, since she had weighed nearly twelve tons. This time, though, it was just a light thump. It actually seemed to hurt more now, however, and she rubbed her elbow.

That reminded her that she was still wearing the quantonium entanglement skin. She peeled it off carefully and left it on the floor as instructed, then had her shower. It was nice to be able to shower normally again, with decently fluffy towels. Even though the ones she was given were nowhere near as fluffy as the ones she was used to at home, they still felt a lot better than the giant-sized ones she had used as Ginormica. Those were more like drying with cotton sheets.

Then she changed into the jumpsuit, feeling the coarser-textured cloth. Everything seemed to remind her of her new size, and consequently of the fact that her life as Ginormica was finally over. It had been the most intense few months of her life, bringing her to greater extremes of sadness, fear, joy, love, and anger than she had ever known. But it was over now. Whatever happened now, her life would be small and limited. It had to be, she thought with tears in her eyes. It had to be, because she had proven herself horrifyingly unable to handle anything else.

She noticed her Puss-in-Boots doll had fallen down, and picked him up. Why she had taken the old doll she wasn't even sure. She had been hugging him when the men came to take her away, and for some reason she couldn't stop hugging him. Perhaps as he was her last connection to her old life, when she wasn't a dangerous killer. Something to hold onto to remind her of happier days. And perhaps as a reminder of her lost innocence.

"You hang in there, Pussy-Boots," she whispered, placing him carefully on the floor by the wall. She was suddenly reminded of the kitten poster in her old cell, and smiled sadly. Then she headed out into the old common room. Her breakfast was waiting on the smaller, normal-sized table, and was only a normal amount. It was still porridge, however. Susan sat down and took a bite, then made a face.

"I never realised how…urgh…lumpy this oatmeal was," she muttered to herself. "I guess there were some advantages to missing out on textures after all."

She finished the rest of her meal in silence, wondering what the other monsters were doing. Other monsters? No, she told herself. Not the _other_ monsters; _the_ monsters. She was no longer one of them. She buried her face in her hands, thinking about all the chances she had been given, and all the wrong choices she had made.

"Hey, uh, Giny."

Susan turned to face Link, towering over her. She wanted to tell him to go away, to leave her alone so she could lose herself in despair and self-pity, but she realised that was the wrong choice, the selfish choice. She needed to consider his feelings as well. Feelings she had been trying to wound for far too long. So she stood and faced him, her throat a bit dry.

"Hey… Link… I… about Rome… I… I haven't been… I've been a bit… Some of the things I said, you know…." she stammered, unable to look him in the eye. "I wasn't really that… well…"

"Ah, forget it," the huge scaly ape said with a lopsided grin.

Susan threw herself at him, hugging him as high as she could reach, suddenly weeping. "I'm so sorry! I've been a… a total bitch to you! I'm so, so sorry!"

"Hey Giny, I told ya, it's cool," Link assured her, awkwardly but gently patting her back with his huge clawed hand. "Nah, I shouldn't have let you get to me."

"Can… you forgive me?" Susan asked, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "For all the mean stuff I said about you, to you?"

"Oh come on," Link muttered. "Don't give me that look. 'Course I damn well forgive you!" He hugged her tight, lifting her off her feet. "Don't you ever run out on us again, you hear!" he told her. "We're a team!"

"Team Monster?" Susan sniffed. "Not any more, I'm afraid. I'm back to normal, and this time it's for good. The aliens have the quantonium."

"So long as they don't have you," Link told her, letting her down to the floor. "You look funny small," he added, looking down at her with a slight smile.

"I'll bet you're happy to be the biggest and strongest again," Susan joked, pressing her head against his powerful chest.

"Hey now, some other monsters might be a little bit smarter than I am, like the Doc," Link told her. "And some may be bigger and stronger too, like you were. It happens."

"Yeah, maybe," Susan admitted. "But none of them will ever love you the way I do."

"It's me and you, okay?" Link told her, patting her on the shoulder. "And as the years go by, girl, our friendship will never die."

"Never," Susan agreed, wiping her eyes. "You and me, Linkster. Pity they won't let me out on the surface any more. Those kept me sane, those swims with you did."

"Oh, don't be like that, Giny. You'll get through this. We're with ya, okay? All your friends are."

"Except... except Mary," Susan said, her lip trembling.

"Yeah, but… I guess…" Link stammered to a halt. "Yeah, she was a good kid. Bit snobby, but a good kid." He looked at her compassionately, and then winked. "Tell ya what, I'd bet she'd be really happy to see how much you cared for her. I mean, I only wish someone would go on a rampage when I get whacked!"

"That's… not really helping, Link," Susan said, trying to keep her emotions in check. She looked up at him. "But I know what you're trying to say. It just seems so… so damned unfair!" she exploded.

"That's because it is," Link told her bluntly. "Life ain't fair, Susie. Life ain't fair to any of us in here. Life ain't fair to anyone anywhere, 'cause if you're lookin' to life to be fair, you're lookin' in the wrong damn place. Life don't care. Your friends care, though. You've got troubles and I've got 'em too. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you. We stick together and see it through."

"You're right," Susan sniffed. She looked up at his ugly green-scaled face and smiled through her tears. "I guess I forgot that for a while back then. I won't ever forget it again. Ever…"

"Aw, don't get all sniffy on me, girly-girl! Come on, Insecto wants to see you!"

Susan looked up at her huge friend, and smiled. "I wonder how immense she'll seem to me now?"

Link raised an eyebrow, and grinned. "Well, let's go find out, sister!"

* * *

"Murphy, your parents are here," Monger's voice came through the intercom after lunch.

Susan looked up from the common room table, where she was reading a magazine. "Sir?"

"You'll have half an hour's visit. No more," the general's stern voice said. "Be in your cell in five minutes."

"Sir!" Susan said, standing up and immediately returning to her cell. She pressed the button to lower the bed, and sat down. Her parents, here? Underground, in the base? And how on earth was she going to face them? What was she going to say? What could she possibly say? Susan started weeping again, in shame and fear.

"Susan?"

"Susie Q?"

Susan turned her tear-filled eyes towards the door.

"Mama? Papa?"

"You haven't called us that since you were ten, dear," her mother said, sitting down beside her daughter on the bed.

"It's, uh, um, good to see you back to normal," her father said awkwardly, rocking on his feet like he wasn't sure whether he wanted to stand or sit. "Uh, assuming you, er, wanted to be, that is," he added, glancing at Susan.

"I have to be," Susan said quietly. She raised her head. "Did… Did Monger tell you…"

"About… Mary, and… what happened next? He did," her mother told her, hugging her daughter. "We can't pretend to understand what it must have been like, what your life has been like since you, er, became a giantess. We know it must have been very stressful."

"You're only a child," her father added. "Surely they're going to take that into account? They just tossed you in the deep end, didn't they? My God, they really did, you know! My little girl gets mutated by an alien technology and the first thing the damned government does is lock her away and tell her she's a monster?" Carl Murphy slammed his fist into the wall. "No, dammit! They damn well had this coming! It wasn't that alien goop that made you a monster, it was the bloody army! Locking you away, isolating you, forcing you to fight robots and aliens and putting an untrained girl through hell! I'm not going to let them do this to you! I'm going to raise such a stink! Write to the press, Congress, the Senate, the President! And we're getting you a real lawyer! Not some army pencil-pusher! We're going to fight this thing, and we're going to win!"

He stood there breathing heavily, his face red, and brushed a hand over his thinning scalp.

"What your father is trying to say, dear, is that you're our daughter and we will always love you, and we will fight for you with everything we've got, and more."

"How can you say that, Mom?" Susan sobbed. "I've killed people! I… I just stamped on them, and they were dead. Crushed. Eight people! I deserve to rot in jail! I'm a murderer!"

"You never deliberately set out to kill, Susan. You were put in an impossible situation, under stress that I cannot begin to imagine. I'd… I'd be lying if I said we weren't concerned. Of course we are. But we don't think for a minute that our dear, sweet girl has become a rampaging monster, a killer. What happened in Vegas was… an accident."

"No it wasn't, Mom," Susan whispered. "I knew what I was doing. I just couldn't control my anger. And that means I can't be Ginormica any more. If I get mad now, as small, limited, Susan, what's the worst that can happen?"

Her father shook his head, and sat down beside her. "I wish it were that simple, my dear," he said. "But there are so many times so-called normal people have caused great harm, even without being a giant. Some lunatic with a semi-automatic can kill even more easily. You can't be afraid of power. You just need to control it, otherwise it controls you."

"You… you think I shouldn't have given up the quantonium?" Susan asked, looking up at her father with surprise.

"It's not for me to say," her father told her. "I would never want to pressure you into any decision you weren't happy with."

"But I'll still glad I can do this," her mother added, hugging Susan tightly. Susan hugged her back, weeping, not even sure if she was happy or ashamed or sad. All that mattered was that she could hug her parents again, be a part of their world.

* * *

After dinner, Monger drove into the common room in his electric jeep. "Murphy, permission has been granted to visit Dr Cockroach in the MCF sick bay. Get in."

"Yes sir! Thank you sir!" Susan exclaimed, jumping up from the floor, where she had been talking with Bob. Monger drove them along a series of tunnels and ramps, and pulled up outside a door. A woman in a captain's uniform was waiting outside, and saluted as Monger hopped out.

"General, sir!"

"At ease, Captain Champlain. Escort the accused to visit Doctor Cockroach, and remain with her."

"Yes, sir. In here, Major," Champlain said, pointing to the door.

"Major?" Susan looked at the general questioningly.

"You're still a major until your court-martial," Monger reminded her. "Enjoy it while it lasts," he added grimly.

"Yes, sir. Thank you sir," Susan said, saluting him. Then she followed Champlain into the extensive sick bay of Area 52, passing through a series of rooms and corridors. One huge chamber she recognised as being where she had been given her physicals as Ginormica, but all the rest were on a much smaller scale.

They came to a door, which Champlain slid open. "There he is," the captain said, pointing to a small shape on the bed, surrounded by machines.

Susan's knees gave way and she sank to the floor, as if her body was trying to hide the sight from her.

"Are you okay?" the captain asked.

Susan nodded. "I… I'll be fine. Thank you." She struggled to her feet again, and nervously moved over to the single bed.

"You have half an hour. I'll be outside."

"Thank you," Susan replied quietly. "I mean it."

"He's unconscious, so don't try to wake him. That could hinder the healing process," the doctor said, coming over to her as she reached the bed.

"Can I talk to him?" Susan asked, wiping away a stray tear.

"Of course. That might help, in fact. Were you two close?"

Susan could no longer hold her tears in. "We were," she sniffed, nodding. "Once…."

"Hearing the voice of a loved one can be of material assistance for coma patients," the doctor said gently. "I'm Doctor Singh. Would you like me to give you the details of his condition?"

Susan shook her head. She couldn't bear to hear a listing of just how badly she had injured her friend. "Just… just tell me he'll be all right," she begged softly.

The doctor pursed his lips. "Physically, he's on the mend. He's unbelievably robust."

"You can't crush a cockroach," Susan commented quietly. "Though I sure tried…."

"Perhaps. The problem is not so much his body but his brain. He's in a coma, and there is no predicting when he will come out. If ever."

"You mean… he could be like this… for life?" Susan gasped, choking back tears as she looked down at his slim form.

"There is that chance. I can't deny it."

Susan knelt down by Cockroach's bed and buried her head in his sheets.

"It's more than likely he'll recover in a day or two," the doctor assured her. "I wish I could be more certain. But the brain is a very mysterious organ in many ways. We can but hope…."

"Thank you, doctor," Susan sniffed, wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry I broke down."

"Absolutely understandable, Major," Singh said with a comforting smile. "You have nothing whatsoever to be ashamed of."

"Except for doing this to him in the first place," Susan replied glumly.

"Ah. Yes, well…. I don't know about that," the doctor said carefully. "I should be heading off. If you need anything, I'll be nearby. Here. You might need these…."

Susan took the box of tissues he offered, and managed a wan smile. "Thank you, doctor."

She sat down in the chair by the bed, and looked over at her friend. There were tubes coming from various orifices, and monitoring devices were placed on his exoskeleton. One eye was covered in a large bandage, and his right arm was in plaster.

"Doc…. I don't know if you can hear me, or if you're even aware… but I need to talk to you," Susan said quietly. "Doc, I'm so sorry… for everything. I nearly killed you. Oh, I'm so ashamed of myself. I got so angry I couldn't think. I couldn't control myself. And I wrecked everything. I… I… Oh, Doc, I killed people! I killed them! Me! Susan Murphy! Why did I have to be such a monster? What happened to me? Oh, Doc, help me, I'm so scared…."

She drew a deep breath, and glanced over at the prone form of Cockroach. He looked so still and small, lying there, the only thing moving being the machine pumping air into his lungs. She leant over and brushed her hand delicately over his smooth skull, feeling how the antennae connected into his head. They were seldom still normally: always questing, feeling; vibrating when he was excited, drooping when he was depressed or embarrassed. But now they were just lying there, unmoving. It looked so wrong, Susan thought to herself. And it was all her fault. She blew her nose on a tissue, and wiped some more tears away as she sat back in the chair, gazing over at the sleeping insect man.

"I keep thinking of that day in Rome we spent together," she said quietly. "How my life seemed so perfect then. It _was_ perfect, because I had you. And then… then I let my anger, my disappointment, take over. I couldn't see that you were not the same man who did… what you did. I think it was the fact that she was so similar to me; that I had been worried for a long time that I might get experimented on. When I saw what you—what Cocqueroche—had done, I think, subconsciously, I saw it as something you did to me."

A machine beeped, and Susan looked over expectantly. Nothing changed, however. The regular waves on the electrocardiograph monitor continued their steady oscillation, and the various other pumps and devices continued working away steadily. It was reassuring, in a way, but at the same time quite scary. Susan wished she had more medical knowledge, so she could have a better idea of just how badly he was hurt. She had stamped on him, hard, with her full weight—all 23,640 pounds of it. It was a miracle he was still in one piece.

"Those nights out in the desert…." Susan continued quietly. "When I thought about what I had become and that I had lost you, I was seriously thinking about letting it all end there. Just wander off into a remote ravine to die, alone. Because I couldn't keep going with the guilt, the loss." She stopped, and wiped her nose with a tissue. "But then I remembered what you said to me way back when I got shot, the time I met Amy. When you pleaded with me to come back to you. It was like I could hear your voice again, calling to me. Pleading with me. And then I heard on the news you were alive, and I knew my prayers had been answered. I had to come back, to you."

"Let him rest now," the doctor told her, coming over quietly. "You should leave him. Get some sleep yourself."

"Please, could I stay here, until he wakes up again? I can't leave him now, doctor. Please," she begged.

The doctor looked over at Susan. "I suppose it can only help," he said, then walked to the door and opened it.

"Captain… uh…"

"Champlain, Doctor," the captain replied. "What is it?"

"I'd like it if the Major remain here for a little longer, if the general doesn't mind. I'll take full responsibility for her, don't worry. It's just that I believe she can help bring him out of his coma."

"Uh, well, I see, doctor, if that's your professional opinion. I'll go and inform the general."

"Thanks, captain. Don't worry—the Major's not going anywhere."

"Thank you, doctor. Really," Susan said with feeling as Doctor Singh returned.

"It's my patient I'm concerned about. That's why I'm letting you stay."

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry. Just so long as I can be with him…."

* * *

"Where's Ginormica—I mean Murphy?" Monger asked, looking around as the captain returned alone.

The captain saluted. "She's with Dr Cockroach. Dr Singh gave her permission to remain. She was pretty insistent on staying with him until he woke up."

"What good will that do?" Monger snorted.

"Dr Singh says that her being there can help Cockroach. Something about hearing the voice of a loved one. So he would like her to remain, if possible."

"Humph. Well, there, here, doesn't matter, so long as we know where she is." He pressed his walkie-talkie switch.

"Monger to Murphy. Respond."

A few seconds later there was a sharp hiss and crackle as Susan pressed the intercom switch in the hospital room.

"Sir? Please, General, let me stay. I know you said I was only allowed half an hour, but…. Please, I can't leave the Doc now."

"Woah there, hold yer horses young filly," Monger said, cutting her off. "The doc's already cleared it. The doc doc that is, not the phony doctor. Yeah, you can stay with him, as long as the doctor reckons you need to."

"Thank you sir!" came Susan's ecstatic voice. "I know I don't deserve kindness, after what I did. So thank you so much."

"It's for his sake, not yours," Monger told her sternly. "The doctor says your talking to him helps his recovery."

"I'm still grateful, sir," Susan told him. "Really grateful. You don't know what this means to me. Thank you! Murphy out."

Monger closed the connection and put his walkie-talkie away. "No, Little Debbie, I _do_ know what this means to you," he said quietly.

* * *

Susan leaned over and stroked Cockroach's bare arm, feeling the smooth warm chitin covering. "I'll be with you as long as you need me to," she told him in a quiet voice. "You promised me once, back in Washington, that you'd always be there when I needed you. I'm making you the same promise."

She held his unresisting hand, intertwining the long slim fingers between her own, and sighed deeply. "Out in the desert, on the run, I dreamed about you, you know. You and Mary and Nancy, you all came to me in a dream, and helped me realise something. Understand something, about forgiveness, pride, and friendship. I had been too proud, too arrogant. Too smug about being powerful. I drove you all away because of my pride. But out there, under those cold stars, I was utterly alone in a way I had never been before. And I couldn't bear it. There was this aching void in my heart, and I realised that I need you too, even more than you need me. Doc, please…. Please wake up. It's Susan. I'm here. Wake up. I'm so scared right now. Please come back to me… please…."

.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** The title of this chapter is taken from the song _The Funeral Party_, by The Cure. I recommend this song; it's one of my favourites of theirs.

Monger's explanation of the court-martial process is taken essentially directly from Wikipedia. I'm not going to get into much detail about that, however, as I know nothing about the process, and don't want to write a courtroom drama anyway. Regulations also appear to say that an accused is merely confined to barracks until tried.

The name "K.O. Putsch" is taken from what I believe is the German-language dub of MvA, so since it's essentially the same guy, I've made him look similar to Monger anyway. I actually prefer "K.O. Putsch" to "W.R. Monger" as a name myself.

Incidentally, getting into the Sit Room does NOT require a buttocks scan here...

Any similarity between my _Union of Worlds_ and Paramount and Star Trek's _Federation of Planets_ is pure coincidence.

Any similarity between Link's lines when Susan apologises to him and Toy Story's _You've Got A Friend In Me_ song, on the other hand, is completely and deliberately done...

I actually think Susan's father has a point. And I'm sure a civilian trial would find serious mitigating circumstances in the kidnapping and isolation of an innocent. His rant just sort of wrote itself, as, really, she has been put through some crazy stuff. Who wouldn't explode?

Captain Champlain's name, for what it's worth, is taken from the name of the founder of Quebec. No reason for that, however.

Probably a week before the next chapter is up, and I think I will end up splitting the last chapter in two as well, as it has to cover so much ground...


	27. Wrongs Darker Than Death or Night

**27. Wrongs Darker Than Death or Night**

"Susan… Susan…."

Gradually Susan became aware that the quiet whispers she was hearing were not a dream. Someone was calling her name.

"Mmmm?" she mumbled, yawning and stretching. Her body was aching all over, and she suddenly realised she wasn't in bed, but in a chair. In a chair? Her? With a rush, the memories came flooding back, and her eyes flew open. Had she just heard Cockroach calling her name?

"Doc!" Susan exclaimed. "Can you hear me?" She leaned in close, and gently stroked his long antennae, wondering how she could ever have found him repulsive. One huge eye cracked open, the great amber iris wandering about until it found and focused on her.

"Ill… ill met by moonlight, proud Titania…" he whispered.

"I am so, so sorry," Susan sobbed, weeping in relief. She threw herself around him, hugging him tightly. "I nearly killed you!"

"Is this yet a dream?" Cockroach murmured quietly. "If so, let me never wake from this joyous embrace."

"It's not a dream, my sweet mad bug," Susan told him. "It's a nightmare—mine. I am so glad to see you awake, after what I did to you!"

"To me? Oh, wait, I remember," Cockroach said, trying to sit up, then he groaned in pain and sank down again. "Oh boy, do I remember…."

"Wait, lie down. Don't try to exert yourself," Susan told him. "You're still very badly injured."

Cockroach laughed softly, then grimaced with pain. "I told you… nothing can crush a cockroach…" He lay back, and closed his eye with a long-drawn out sigh. "How long have I been out?"

"Four nights," the doctor said, who had rushed over and was taking some readings. "The Major came in to see you yesterday, when she arrived."

Cockroach looked over at Susan. "Have you been here all night?" he asked, concern in his voice.

Susan nodded. "I'm going to be here for you, whenever you need me."

He smiled faintly at that. Then he looked her up and down. "So, what happened to… you?" he asked, gesturing at her weakly with his free arm. "Aliens again? Not Gallaxhar I hope?"

"No. The cops, I guess. Aliens who are hunting Gallaxhar. I let them have it."

"You gave it up? But… but why?" Cockroach gasped, then grimaced in pain.

"It turned me into a monster," she told him quietly. "I couldn't control myself as Ginormica. It might have made me stronger, but it also made me weaker—I was physically strong, but the old Susan would never, in a million years, have been weak enough inside to do what I did as Ginormica. I got Mary killed, and I nearly got you killed, and I could not bear to lose you. I don't want to turn into a monster—a monster inside, that is. Nothing is worth that. I would prefer to live a small, limited life with love—your love and the love of my friends—than be a powerful giant alone, without love. I was that in the desert, when I fled, and it was so… so very painful…" she finished in a low whisper.

"But you are not alone, my dear. You never were alone."

"I always felt it, though," Susan sighed. "I would sit at my table and look down at you, at the others, all sitting around your own table and wish I could join you. Or that I could walk up the steps to your lab, and sit down and talk with you. I felt like the girl at school that no one wanted to play with during recess. I would wish that just once I could get hugged by Bob, arm-wrestle Link, or hold… hold your hand. You were all down here, warm and happy and together, and I was up there, isolated, alone…. Trapped in a world of dolls."

"Oh, my dear sweet child," Cockroach said softly. "You were always part of our world. From the moment you arrived, you were the sun around which our lives orbited. You were… you were the best thing that ever happened to us. What does mere physical size matter? Your kindness, your friendship, your love… it made giants of us all."

Susan nodded, wiping a tear away. "That was one of the things I realised, alone out in the desert. I thought it was my size that was making me feel so isolated. But it wasn't. it was my refusal to accept myself for what I am—what I was. I wanted it all. I wanted both the power and fame of Ginormica, and to be able to slip into my normal life whenever I wanted."

"But you could not. None of us ever could. None of us can be incognito. It's what makes us monsters. It's not something we can leave behind, or hide."

"Except Mary, perhaps. Who needed it more than any of us. Because she spent so much of her life being hated, hunted." Susan felt her eyes watering. "I'm sorry, I'm…"

"She found peace and friendship here," Cockroach told her softly. "With you. You gave her what she had never had before: a true friend."

Susan buried her face in her hands, sobbing. "I miss her so much," she said. "She was like the big sister I never had. Why did they have to kill her? Why?"

"Irrational fear can make people do terrible things," Cockroach noted. "As can irrational anger."

Susan glanced up at him, and sighed. "You're right. How can I be angry at the men who killed Mary, when I killed them in return? Oh, what's going to happen to me now? I'm scared, Doc…."

"It's not the end of the world, my dear. You'll be given a fair trial. All of us here have done worse, I assure you. I can speak from experience. My crimes are not limited to Nancy Archer, remember."

"I had a dream about Nancy when I was in the desert," Susan said softly. She glanced at Cockroach to see how he reacted. "I don't know if it was just a dream, or her spirit visited me or something, but… it really helped me. Helped me get past some issues. See things in a new perspective."

"You know, I think I remember you telling me that," Cockroach noted thoughtfully. "I have a few hazy memories from when I was unconscious, and I am sure I remember your voice, and you mentioning her. Ah, poor Nancy…." He sighed, and looked over at Susan. "I know it seems hard to believe, but her death did affect me. I quit my post here, and returned home to Cambridge."

"You felt guilty?"

There was a slight pause. "I'd like to think so," he told her eventually, his voice soft. "But to be honest, at the time I put it down to a sense of failure. Back then I saw her death almost as something she deliberately did to spite me: I could not understand the secrets of her transformation, and in the end she died and ensured I never would. I was furious at her."

"Wow. That's… cold. Sorry," Susan admitted.

Cockroach looked up at her. "That man was a true monster. Worse than you realise. But I have had a long time indeed to think about it since then. Now I suspect that the real reason was my massive underlying guilt. I felt so guilty inside, even though I didn't realise it. And I think that's why, when I started experimenting with cockroach-human DNA fusion, I used myself as the subject, rather than harm more innocents."

Susan reached out and stroked his smooth exoskeleton. "I'm just glad you did," she said with a wan smile.

"So am I," he told her, looking up at her with a slight smile. "Otherwise I wouldn't be here, gazing up into your soft blue eyes."

"I thought… I thought I had crushed you," Susan confessed. "I heard your, uh, exoskeleton crack." She shuddered at the memory of that horrible sound.

"It did," Cockroach admitted. "But that's like a normal human breaking a bone. I told you before, remember: you could step on me and I would survive."

"But I didn't just step, did I?" Susan whispered, her face burning with shame. "I stamped on you. Hard. Like a bug."

"That might have been fatal, yes," Cockroach said, his voice quiet. "Except…" His open eye twinkled as he smiled at her. "You remember that series of experiments I was running just before you and Mary… before you, uh, left?"

"Not really," Susan admitted. "I was too caught up in my own ego and anger to pay much attention to what anyone else was doing."

"Well, after how much passing through the jaws of the Friscobot hurt, I had started working on a way to try and increase my physical resilience," Cockroach told her. "With Bob's help, I extracted a small sample of his indestructible cytoplasmic matrix, and used some uranium to fuse it with my own body."

Susan's eyes went round. "Does that mean you're indestructible too?" she gasped.

Cockroach laughed, then grimaced with pain. "Far from it, my dear," he said, coughing. "Far from it. But it did mean the difference between being flattened to a disgusting mush and lying here talking with you."

Susan flung herself over Cockroach's body, hugging him tightly.

"I don't think I've ever been so glad you're a mad scientist!" she cried, weeping tears of joy.

"At the moment, my dear, I quite agree," he said, then winced.

"Oh, sorry," Susan said, immediately letting him go. "Are you okay? I'm sorry!"

"No, no, I'm fine, really," he said quickly. "If a bit of pain is the price of you hugging me, it is a price I will gladly pay."

"I still feel guilty about trying to kill you when we first met," Susan told him. "I know what you're going to say, since you always say it. But who'd have ever thought, when I was recoiling from you in horror, that a few months later I'd be so close to you?"

She stroked his arm gently, feeling the tiny roughness of the chitin, then moved to his long, smooth human fingers. Cockroach closed his hand around hers. "You don't know how much I have wanted to do this," he sighed.

"Yes, I do…" Susan replied quietly. She felt the pressure on her hand tighten slightly, and shut her eyes, letting herself be completed absorbed in the simple pleasure of holding another person's hand. She felt the tears start again as her emotions overwhelmed her.

"Do not weep, my dear," Cockroach said softly. "We're going to be fine. Both of us. We'll get through this together."

"I'm just so glad we can talk again," Susan confessed. "I missed being able to just talk, the way we used to. Like that night in Washington, in my tent. You've always been so easy to talk to. In a way, you're even easier to talk to than Rene or my other female friends. You and me, we talk about really important, emotional issues, not silly stuff like shoes or fashion or whatever I used to be obsessed with. It's like it's on a deeper level. You've seen me more exposed, emotionally, than anyone, other than my parents, I guess. And you've always been so incredibly supportive and kind." She wiped her eyes, and sniffed. "I'm sorry—I don't know why I'm teary again. I just don't know how to express how much you mean to me."

"Ah, my dear, your love is sufficient for me, for your strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I boast in my weakness… that the strength of your love may rest within me…"

His eye closed and he fell asleep.

"Let him rest now," Doctor Singh suggested. "He's out of the coma, don't worry. He just needs sleep."

"I'll wait some more, if I may," Susan said.

The doctor nodded. "I'll bring you some hot soup."

"Thanks. You're so kind. Even though I know it's for his sake, not mine."

"Well, I can't let you starve now, can I? And I rather suspect that nothing is going to get you out of this room for a while…"

"Nothing," Susan agreed happily.

She curled up in the chair, a part of her faintly amazed that she was small enough to do so again, and settled down to wait. She would wait as long as he needed. She knew he would do no less. And she wanted to always be there for him, the way he always was for her.

* * *

A sudden sound woke her. It was the door opening, and Susan realised Link and Bob had come to visit Doc as well.

"Hey Susan!" Bob called out happily.

"Shhh!" Susan whispered loudly, putting a finger to her lips. "He's asleep!"

"Ooooh!" Bob gasped, his eye going very round. "The doc-doc said he was awake!"

"He is, I mean, he is from his coma," Susan explained. "But he's sleeping now."

"He's sure doing well. Ya shoulda seen him when he first came in," Link commented. "Boy, what a mess. Uh, sorry, Susan. I didn't mean to…."

"No, no, you're right," Susan said, wiping her eyes. "I mean, I did… you know… do this to him…." She looked at the other two monsters nervously, wondering how they would react.

"Yeah, that was pretty… pretty intense," Link admitted. He picked up another chair and squatted down on it, facing the spine, and resting his arms on the back. "For a while, we though you had turned evil, or something, and were going to… ah, forget it. Ancient history."

"No, I can't forget it," Susan whispered. "Don't try and make me feel better, please, because it just makes me feel worse. I destroyed, I killed, I rejected you guys. I… I ruined everything. Everything…."

"Not everything," Link told her. "Okay, so I admit, not everything's perfect. But you're back with us now. And believe it or not, we're still your friends."

"Why?" Susan asked plaintively.

"We like you!" Bob told her happily.

"How can you like me, when I don't even like me?" Susan asked, looking up at him.

"Because you've got no brain!" Bob exclaimed.

"That's you, Bob," Link told him with a grin.

"And me," Susan said with a wry smile. "God, I was stupid, wasn't I?"

"Like we haven't all done stupid crap. Now stop being so angsty and come join us!"

Susan shook her head. "Thanks, guys. You're all amazing. You really are. I know I've told you that before, but that was just about _what_ you are. You're even more amazing for _who_ you are."

"Who we are?" Bob asked, looking confused. "Am I a really short giant lady?"

Susan laughed. "No, you're the sort of people who would be friends with someone like me. And I won't ever forget it."

"So are you coming back?" Link asked. "Monger said you need to be accompanied by an officer, right? And you're lookin' at _Major_ Missing Link here, remember?" he added with a grin.

"Thanks, but I really think I should stay here, with the Doc. I have to be here for him."

Link's face turned serious, and he nodded. "Yeah, I understand. Well, you hang in there, okay? Do what ya gotta do to get the Doc up and running again. Coz I tell ya, it's pretty dull without you or him around!"

"Except we get to see the General in a tutu!" Bob exclaimed.

"Huh?" Susan gasped.

"You remember," Bob told her happily. "When you got back from somewhere, Link said, 'You, go on a rampage? It'd be more likely for Monger to wear a tutu!'" Bob spread his central section out like a crude skirt, and spun on the spot.

"How on earth can you remember that and not where you put the remote five minutes ago?" Link asked, looking stunned.

Susan laughed, and threw her arms around the big blue blob, squeezing him tightly.

"What would I do without you guys?" she gasped, coming up for air. "I hope you know… how much you mean to me."

"Maybe almost as much as you mean to us, Susie," Link told her. "And don't you forget it!"

Susan shook her head, her silver hair swishing. "Never! I'll see you back at the common room later—I promise!"

She settled back down in her chair after the other two had gone, and smiled.

"I never realised how much I had missed their friendship," she whispered to herself. "I never realised how good they've been to me…."

"I told you…"came Cockroach's voice quietly, "...we monsters… stick together."

"Were you awake the whole time?" Susan asked with a smile.

Cockroach slowly opened his good eye and looked over at her with a smile. "Mostly. Bob's not the quietest monster around."

"No, I guess not," Susan agreed, happy, and very relieved, to see him awake again. "Why didn't you say something?"

"To be honest, I'm still very tired, and Bob and Link—well, Bob especially—can be pretty full-on. They know I'm conscious again, and getting better. That's the important thing."

"I'll tell them you're awake, later," Susan said. "How are you feeling now? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Can I get you anything?"

"I'm fine thanks—I'm being drip-fed at the moment," Cockroach explained. "What about you?"

"I had some soup earlier, don't worry," Susan told him. "I just… I just wish there was something I could do for you, some way I could feel useful."

"You're already doing the most useful thing you possibly could, my dear," Cockroach assured her. "Just by being here, talking with me. Just to have you not hate me any more."

"I'm so truly sorry," Susan told him softly. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did to Nancy." She paused, and took his hand again. "I told you, that day we went swimming together, that I don't care what you were like years ago, and it's who you are now that matters." She stopped, and took a deep breath. "I guess I was wrong. I did care. I shouldn't have, but I did. And I'm really sorry. I couldn't get past what you had done to Nancy, to the other giantess. I saw you as the enemy, as a cruel and amoral experimenter. But even more than that, your lies hurt me. So I hurt you. But hurting you has ended up hurting me even more. I couldn't escape from the cycle of hate."

Cockroach sighed. "Yes, I lied. I thought I could protect you from the truth, deliver you from my evil. Spare your innocence and youth." He looked over at her, and sighed deeply. "But the real lie here was me telling myself that I could simply will it, that I could protect you by simply lying about myself."

"You didn't lie," Susan told him. "You are what I always thought you were—a wonderfully caring, compassionate person. I don't know who or what that other monster is, but I know he's not you. I was the evil, cruel one. I… I tried to…." She petered out, sobbing again. "I'm sorry, please help me, forgive me, don't hate me, don't leave me, forgive me," she pleaded.

Cockroach shook his head. "Forgive me my sin as only you could," he told her softly. "Forgive me, and perhaps you will be able to forgive yourself too…."

"I do… I do forgive you…" Susan started crying again.

"Do not weep, my dear. To suffer woes which Hope thinks infinite; to forgive wrongs darker than death or night…. This, like thy glory, Titania, is to be good, great and joyous, beautiful and free…."

"I'm not Titania any more. Or even Ginormica," Susan said, sniffing. "But that's so beautiful. I still can't believe how deep you can be."

"I wish I could claim credit, my dear. But that was _Prometheus Unbound_, by Shelley. Well, mostly."

Susan smiled. "You're right, though," she said, wiping her eyes. "I had to learn to forgive you. Mary told me once that it wasn't as simple as just saying it, or wanting it. I had to genuinely feel it in my heart. And I couldn't do that without understanding how it was possible for someone so sweet and kind to be so cruel and angry." Susan paused, and gently stroked Cockroach's hand, feeling the soft skin, the subtle pressure of his fingers against hers. "Not until I became cruel and angry myself."

"You were put through far more pressure than the old Susan ever was, remember," Cockroach told her. "After everything the government did to you, demanded of you… the media pressure, Derek's betrayal, those photos; the humiliation, the hounding, the constant, unrelenting attention…. I'm just so glad you were able to stop before you took that final step over the precipice."

"That was when I'd realised I'd hurt you," Susan told him. "When I realised that who I hated wasn't the men who killed Mary, or the ones who were trying to trap me, but me. I hated myself for what I had become. And then later, out in the desert, after that weird dream, I realised how much you must have hated yourself too. And I felt so bad for how I treated you. I knew I had to go back."

"I'm just glad you are so much wiser than I am," Cockroach said with a slight smile. "It took me years to realise what has taken you just a few days. Oh my dear, you have so much more compassion and love in your heart, and this is what saved you. Even your evil was spurred by your love for Mary."

"And ended by my love for you," Susan whispered.

"Hold onto that love in your heart, Susan," Cockroach whispered. "It's that love which will always save you, will always lead you back from the precipice."

"Love keeps me from being a monster, you mean?"

Cockroach closed his good eye, and nodded. "Love will show you the way. Always. Now… now I need some rest…."

"I'll let you get some sleep, Doc," Susan murmured. "I'll be here, waiting."

Cockroach's eye snapped open, and he turned to her. "Please, my dear. Please go and sleep in your own room."

Susan shook her head. "I told you, I'll always be here for you."

"I know, but I wouldn't be able to relax if I thought you were sitting up in that chair the whole time. Please, Susan. For my sake. Go and sleep in a real bed. Please. I don't want to have to worry about your health as well as mine."

Susan nodded. "I really want to stay with you, and in a way I feel like I deserve to suffer for what I did to you," she said. "But you're right. As usual. I shouldn't let my selfish need to punish myself stop me from doing what you want me to do."

"Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful, my dear Titania…."

Susan smiled. "That's more from Shakespeare, right? In that case, let sleep knit up the ravelled sleeve of care, then, my sweet little mad scientist…."

Cockroach gently squeezed her hand, then closed his eye as Susan bent over and kissed him on the forehead. His chitin exoskeleton felt smooth and warm beneath her lips, which lingered on him longer than strictly necessary for a goodnight kiss.

* * *

Back in her cell, Susan picked up Pussy-Boots and lay down on her bed. She felt strange. Almost like crying, but wasn't sure why. Doc was out of his coma, and getting better. They had made up, and it felt to her like they were closer than ever, and she was so happy about that it almost made her feel like crying. True, she was desperately sad for Mary, but what she was feeling wasn't just that. No, she decided. That wasn't why she was feeling so strange. It wasn't even the worry about her court-martial. She felt lonely and weak for some reason. There was something not quite right with her life, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Something gnawing away at her. Like part of her soul was missing.

* * *

"Well if that don't beat all!" Monger groused as he cracked open a beer. He swung his legs onto the table in the common room, and made a face.

Link glanced over at Monger. It was reasonably common for the general to spend a couple of hours in the evening with his charges, especially when things were not going well and he wanted to blow off steam. So Link was already pretty sure something was on his mind, in addition to the obvious issue of Susan's court-martial. "What is it, General?" he asked, tossing his empty can into a bin labelled "Cockroach's Snacks. No Heavy Metals or Chewing Gum."

"Those damned aliens have been allowed to go to Rome to suck up the rest of the quantonium! Apparently the Italian government is letting them cast their magical rays all over on the promise of some fancy shiny tech!"

"So?" Link shrugged. "Susan reckons these are the good aliens. So does the President, from what I've seen on TV. There's pretty much nothing but aliens on TV, frankly."

"Yeah, well, you can't trust aliens," Monger snarled. "You know that."

Link shrugged again. "So what's going to happen with Susan?" he asked, changing the subject. "When's her trial?"

"Trial? We're facing a full-on alien invasion!" Monger snapped, then took a deep breath. "Once this alien crisis is over, then she'll have a preliminary hearing, followed by the full general court-martial."

"And what will happen then?" Link asked, his voice quiet.

"Military prison, probably," Monger told him. "Don't give me that look. It's not up to me. Sorry." The old soldier put his drink down on the table, his shoulders slumped and his expression bleak. "Dammit, I was so proud of her. She was so… so glorious…."

* * *

After three days, Susan's life had settled into a steady rhythm. She would wake, breakfast, then be escorted down to the sick bay, where she would spend the entire day with Cockroach. Link and Bob would sometimes drop by to visit, but Doctor Singh banned Bob after the mindless blob absorbed a week's supply of painkiller, so it ended up being usually only Link. But it was mostly just Susan and Cockroach, talking together quietly, or her reading a book to him—he was getting her to read excerpts from Stephen Hawking's _A Brief History of Time_, which she was finding surprising accessible.

Yet despite the calm, quiet life, and being friends with everyone again, she still had this growing sense that something was not quite right with her life. Something on a fundamental level. Everything seemed familiar, yet strangely alien. She would walk around the common room, looking up at the platform she had used as a table, or climb the steps to Cockroach's lab, feeling each tread underneath her feet, in a state of mild disbelief that she could again. Always thinking about what it had been like to be a giantess. And each morning she would wake up and have to remember that she was no longer Ginormica.

* * *

The next morning she finished her breakfast quickly, and, accompanied by Champlain, headed down to see Cockroach. He was still asleep when she arrived, so Champlain gave her a salute and headed back while she settled down in her chair to wait patiently. His nurse brought her a welcome cup of tea, and she took it gratefully.

"Hi Rachel. When do you think he'll be awake?" she asked.

The nurse glanced briefly at the sleeping patient, then shrugged. "I really have no idea, Susan, sorry. He's not sleeping regular hours."

"He never did," Susan admitted. "Up all night working on some crazy experiment, then naps at random times during the day. Usually face down on his lab desk." She smiled at the memory. "Thanks all the same, though."

"No problem. Yell if you need anything, okay?"

"Sure thing. See you at lunch, okay?"

"Don't worry—I know you'll be here," Rachel said with a compassionate smile.

She left, and Susan was alone with the sleeping form of her friend. His exoskeleton meant that there was no movement of breathing, but the various readouts reassured Susan he was in fact merely asleep. His antennae were alive again, twitching gently as he dreamed. She leaned across and gently caressed his smooth skull, twining her fingers through his long, soft eyebrows.

Cockroach's good eye opened a fraction, and he smiled.

"Good morning," he said softly. "Assuming it is morning."

"It is," Susan smiled. "Did you sleep well? Would you like some tea?"

"I wouldn't mind a spot of sugar," Cockroach admitted. "Honey or something would definitely be appreciated."

"I'll see what I can do," Susan promised, and dashed out to find the nurse. She was back in a few minutes, carrying a baby bottle full of warmed diluted honey.

"Thank you so much, my dear," Cockroach said with a sigh of contentment as he sucked carefully at the teat. "Ah, that does wonders, that does. Still, I do look forward to being able to eat solid waste again. This just doesn't quite have the right bouquet…."

"When you're better, we'll go visit my parents again," Susan promised. "I'll make sure they have plenty of really smelly trash for you."

"That would be heavenly, indeed," Cockroach said quietly.

"It'll have to wait until I'm out of jail, I guess," Susan added despondently.

Cockroach looked over at her. "Any idea on when your pre-trial hearing will be?"

Susan shook her head. "Monger told me it won't be until this alien thing has finished. Apparently they've been in negotiations with the President or the government for something for the last few days."

"Do you suppose it's the secret of interstellar travel? That would be quite…something," Cockroach said, his eye gleaming with excitement. "I must get my hands on it!" He cackled insanely, his eye gleaming with excitement, then suddenly stopped. "Sorry, I'm calm now."

"I'm just glad to hear you laugh again," Susan said. "That was the first time you laughed like that since… well…."

"Probably since you found out about my past," he said quietly.

"Doc…" Susan began, then stopped.

"What is it, my dear?"

"When you're better… I want to have a proper funeral service for Nancy. She deserves a proper burial."

He looked over at her, and nodded. "You're right. And for Mary. We… we owe that to them."

"We do…." Susan bit her lip, feeling her shoulders shake as her sorrow at the loss of her friend once again overwhelmed her.

Suddenly the door banged open, and Monger strode in.

"Damn all aliens! Where's Link?" he shouted.

"He's not here. What's the problem, General?" Susan asked, standing up and saluting.

"Those aliens are demanding the quantonium we took from the Romebot! And I think that liberal pansy Obama's going to give it to them! Out of my cold, dead hands! Do you know how powerful that stuff is?"

"But… but shouldn't they take it? To destroy it? What if Gallaxhar comes back? Or someone like him?" Susan asked nervously.

"We can deal with him," Monger growled. He stopped, and looked over at Cockroach. "Glad to see you're on the mend, you stubborn old fool."

"You can't keep a mad scientist down," Cockroach told him with a slight grin. Then his face turned serious. "You have the quantonium here?"

Monger nodded. "General Putsch does. Stored inside the alien section. Along with the remains of the Friscobot, and however much of Gallaxhar's ship we managed to recover. Anyway, I gotta find that damned dirty fish-ape. The President thought it would look good if he acted as a bodyguard for the meeting here at Area 52 with the alien leaders. Let me know if you see him."

"Of course," Cockroach told him.

Monger left, and Susan's eyes gazed unfocused at the far wall.

"What is it?" Cockroach asked.

"They have the quantonium here?" she asked quietly. "The stuff from Rome?"

"Don't worry, my dear. I'm sure it's quite safe, even if the aliens do try and take it by force. We're deep underground, remember."

"Yes, yes, of course we are," Susan said brightly, looking at him. "I'm not worried. Not about that. I'm mainly worried about you…"

"I'm getting better quite rapidly, thanks to your care," Cockroach told her.

"Well, me and the actual doctors," Susan added with a smile. Then her face turned serious again. "You know how sorry I am, how much I wish I had never done this to you," she whispered. "I just don't know why I snapped so badly in Vegas."

"If they call you a monster long enough, eventually you turn into one," Cockroach noted.

"A monster…. I hated being seen as a scary monster," Susan admitted. "As a heroine, yeah. That was cool. But when people screamed and ran and tried to hurt me…."

"That wasn't quite what you expected your life would turn out as."

"No, but then so many of my fantasies about my life have gone wrong," Susan told him. "Starting with my delusions about being a fairytale princess marrying my handsome prince. Instead I became a monster."

"You seem to have had quite a number of fantasies destroyed," Cockroach agreed. "But the truth is, you're neither a princess nor a monster. You're just you: plain old Susan Murphy, an average girl from an average town."

"Who has had some very un-average things happen to her," Susan responded. "Sometimes I think I could have coped better if… if there hadn't been so much pressure," she admitted with a sigh.

"In Rome, you told me about Princess Ann and her day spent exploring the city incognito," he said slowly, thinking. "When you were Ginormica, that is what you wanted, isn't it? To be able to escape the eyes, and your duty. But you could never have it. Nor could she. And you know why."

"Because Ann had to return to her old life. She had to go back to being a princess. It was what she was. There really was no other choice. There was no… other… choice…."

Susan was silent for a long while. Cockroach looked over at her, concern on his features.

"Are you all right, my dear?"

"Doc, I have to go back as well," Susan whispered.

"So soon?" Cockroach asked, surprised.

Susan shook her head. "No. I mean I have to be Ginormica again."

"Why?" he gasped.

"Ginormica's been a part of me, of what I am, for what seems like ages—it's hard to imagine a time when I wasn't her," Susan said quietly. "And now that I am not, it's as if a part of my soul is missing. It's something I've been gradually becoming aware of over the past few days. I know I said Ginormica was a part of me. I didn't realise how much a part. In getting rid of the quantonium, of Ginormica, I feel like I've betrayed a friend. No, worse; killed a friend. It feels like I have killed off part of myself." She drew a deep breath. "I need her back," she added in a whisper. "I have to get that quantonium the robot collected. I have to get back to normal, back to who I now know I really am."

"To Ginormica?" Cockroach said in a low voice, his face full of concern. "A monster?"

Susan nodded. "Yes. Who I really am."

.

* * *

**NOTES FOR READERS**: Nearly 6,000 words of Doc and Susan reconciliation probably means I need an editor, badly... Anyway, let's get some background info out there. The title, as should be clear in the text, is from Shelley's _Prometheus Unbound_ - though in the text I changed "Titan" to "Titania" for obvious reasons...

This explains what Doc was doing with Bob in his lab before Susan left, at least. And I also found an explanation for why he experimented on himself rather than other people.

I have no intention of putting Monger in an actual tutu, don't worry.

Cockroach's "Yes I lied" bit and the next few lines are taken from _Xena_'s Rift arc when Xena apologizes to Gabrielle in Illusia.

I figured it wouldn't hurt if Monger paid the odd social visit to the monsters. They're not regular army, so a chance for him to relax a bit more than normal, I would think.

I've spaced out the timing to give Susan plenty of time to think her situation over, and accounted for that by having the aliens prefer negotiating to gunboat diplomacy. These aren't evil aliens. I am much more interested in conflict driven by sincerely conflicting goals rather than Evul Lulz.

The next section will feature some action, at least, so it won't be yet another wordy, introspective, bleak installment. Or not _entirely_...


	28. The Ghosts of No Gun Ri

**28. The Ghosts of No Gun Ri**

Susan took a deep breath, and faced the door squarely. It was a remarkably non-descript door, with a simple nameplate reading _General W.R. Monger, U.S. Army_. She had never seen it before, of course, since this part of the facility was too small for Ginormica to have ever accessed. It was part of the warren of service and administration rooms that made up the central core of the Monster Containment Facility. Susan had requested a meeting with Monger after arriving back the previous evening, and it had finally been granted.

Link, beside her, laid an hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze. "You'll be right, kid," he said with a reassuring grin. "I gotta head off—did ya hear? The President wants me to act as his personal bodyguard when the alien leader arrives! Oh yeah!" The seven and a half-foot scaled ape flexed his massive biceps, and grinned. "Any sack of goop tries anything, they'll have to deal with the Linkster first!"

"Well, don't do anything silly, okay?" Susan told him with a warm smile. "Like starting an intergalactic war or something."

"No worries. I'll see you when I get back, okay?"

"Game of cards with you and Bob? Sure thing!" she said, trying to keep the nervousness and fear out of her voice. Susan waved as her huge green monster friend loped off, and then turned to face the door again. She took another deep breath, brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, and knocked quietly.

"Enter!" Monger's stentorian voice barked.

Susan turned the knob and gingerly stepped into the general's surprisingly spartan office.

"Uh, General, might I have a word, sir?" Susan asked nervously.

"What is it?" Monger said, looking at her suspiciously. "If this is about getting a cot put in the Doc's room, I already told you, no. Twice."

"It's not, sir. It's… uh… about the quantonium the Rome robot collected."

"The quantonium? What about it?" Monger asked. "Is something the matter?"

"Sir, I know I've been a complete disappointment to you. I know I don't deserve anything. I've disgraced you, the Monster Force, everything. I don't know to express how sorry I am, how I wish I could take it all back. That it had never happened…." She trailed off, and wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Your sincere and genuine remorse over your actions has been noted, and will play a part in your trial, Murphy," Monger told her, not unkindly.

"Thank you, sir," she said. "But that's not what I meant. I know I don't deserve any consideration, sir. I know I need to be judged, and punished. I'm not trying to get away from that. I'm no longer going to run away from what I am." Susan stopped, and took another deep breath. "You know, I told Dale Litterman I wasn't running away from my old life. That I wasn't giving up on it entirely, rather than taking the effort to fix it. This time, I have. I took the lazy way out, giving up the quantonium and being a giantess, rather than learning how to deal with it," she told him sadly. "I couldn't handle the power, the responsibility. Becoming a monster taught me a lot, but I think becoming normal again has taught me even more. It's not right. It's not what I'm meant to be."

"What do you mean?"

"Sir, these last few days, back to my old size, I've been feeling… there's this wrongness, sir. I don't quite know how to express it. Like I'm half a person. There's the hollowness inside me, and it's getting worse."

"Get to the point," Monger told her sternly.

"Sorry, sir. It's… it's the quantonium the Rome robot collected. I know you want to give it to a real soldier, make a super-soldier that will follow orders and won't need training and knows about army discipline and all that stuff, but…." Susan stopped, and took a deep breath. "Sir, I'm begging you—please, let me have it. Let me go back to being Ginormica!"

Monger's eyebrows shot up. Then they dropped down again as his brow furrowed, and he stared at her hard. Susan bit her lip, and tried not to cry.

"You… want to go back to being a monster?"

Susan shook her head. "No, sir. I don't, and I won't."

"Make sense, girl! You said you wanted to go back to being Ginormica!"

"I do, sir! But… but she's not a monster! That is, I'm not a monster! Since… since Mary died, I've had almost a week of thinking about nothing else but being a monster, being normal, being a giant, being small. About my mistakes, my life. It… it feels wrong, sir. I'm not going to claim I was fated to be Ginormica, or anything. But I know I have to be. It's like… she was the one with all the strength. She was the wind beneath my wings, my hero, everything, everything I wished I could be. Please, sir, I need to be her again. I'm begging you, sir. Please, let me have the quantonium, not some soldier. I don't want to run from myself any more."

Monger held up his hand. "I'm sorry, Major," he said gently. "I can tell this is very important to you, but my hands are tied. The quantonium will be given back to the aliens. The President himself made that decision. I can't go against a Presidential order. I'm… for what it's worth, I'm truly sorry."

Susan felt her heart stop. She swayed, feeling a wave of dizziness. With an effort, she mastered herself as she looked at his sympathetic expression.

"I… I under…stand. Th…th… thank you... sir…" Susan stammered, feeling her eyes water. Then she could no longer hold it in: she broke down and cried. For the loss of her hopes, her dreams, and for the loss of that part of her that had helped her become more than she ever dreamed she could be.

"Sit down, Susan."

She felt strong arms around her, holding her and gently guiding her to a chair. Monger had never held her before—barely so much as even touched her, and she was startled to see such compassion from him.

Monger pushed his intercom button. "Link, report to my office immediately." He shoved a box of tissues towards her, and Susan took a handful.

"Things are going to be much more convenient for you, you know," he said quietly. "Life will be easier. You won't need to worry about getting around, or being stared at, or having to depend on others for so much. You'll be able to be much more independent."

"I guess…" Susan managed to say. "But… but… I'd still sacrifice all that, just to be Ginormica again. It wasn't the size, or the power. It was something… inside me. I can't express it in words. She changed me. She gave me more than I ever realised. And now she's gone, and I feel so... alone."

"Hey, General," came Link's voice. "You wanted to… oh, Susan. I… uh… I guess… things didn't work out so well…."

Monger shook his head. "Just get her back to the common room, okay?"

"Roger that. Hey, come on, Susie Q. Up ya come. Ol' Link's got you now."

In a daze, Susan found herself being led gently back to the common room. Her mind was a blank. Hope had crumbled. She didn't know what she could do now, or who she could turn to. Her incredible experience as Ginormica was finally over. There was nothing more she could do. No hope left.

"You gonna be okay?" the tall green monster asked when they arrived, his voice gentle.

"Fine," Susan replied, not looking up. "Well, eventually, I guess," she added. "One day. I suppose I'll get used to this. I just feel so… so unlike me. Like I'm in somebody else's body. I didn't realise I would feel this way when it was gone. I thought that I could cope, and carry on; that the advantages of being small again would make up for the loss. I mean, I can do anything I want to, now, right? And yet… it's so hard to put into words, Link. I feel… guilty, in a way. Like I'm cheating. You follow me?"

"Not really, no," Link confessed, shaking his huge head. "But hey, you wanna be a monster again. Of course ya do. It was the best thing that ever happened to you. What's not to like about being a monster? Well, apart from the loneliness, the boredom, the confinement, the screaming…" He tailed off, scratching his head. "Hey, come to think of it, maybe things aren't too bad for you…."

Susan glanced up at him and smiled wanly. "Thanks for trying to make me feel better. I suppose now I can go shopping in malls, go out to restaurants with friends, all those things I complained about not being able to do. But they seem so… so petty now. And I won't be getting to do them for God knows how long anyway, depending on how long they put me away for…."

"Hey, don't weep, kid," Link told her, patting her back as gently as he could. "They can't put you away for that long. You did help save the planet, after all. One year. Two, tops, and you'll be free. Free to live any life you want."

"But not the life I need," Susan said, wiping her eyes. She sighed, and looked down at the floor. It seemed so close now. "Thanks for being there for me, Linkster. Could you let me be alone for a while now? I need to think."

"No probs. I gotta get back to the Prez, anyway."

"Thanks," Susan smiled, as warmly as she could manage. "And good luck."

Alone now, she wandered out of the common room into the hallway, around the side of the moving platform, and to her old room. The controls for the main door were far too high for her to reach, but she was now small enough to enter through the normal-sized door.

Her bedroom seemed vast. Everything was too big. There was the huge bed she could never again sleep in, the huge chair she could never again sit on. The huge computer monitor she had spent so many hours in front of, back when it had been her window to the outside world. She climbed up the access steps to her computer desk, and sat down on the sofa there. The same one Mary had sat in when they planned her escape. What must she have looked like to Mary, she wondered, feeling the fabric under her hand. A great fifty-foot giantess, looming overhead. Susan tried to picture it in her mind, but kept ending up seeing herself as normal, and Mary as doll-sized.

She looked around her room. It felt so familiar, yet alien, distorted by appearing so much bigger. Its sheer size was mocking her, she felt, reminding her of that fact that she was doomed to a life of smallness.

"It's what you wanted for so long, Susan," she told herself angrily. "So don't complain when you get what you asked for!" She closed her eyes tightly. "You'll have more freedom—eventually. You will cope. You will survive. You may not be Ginormica any more, but you are still more than plain old Susan Murphy. Remember that."

But as hard as she tried to convince herself that she was going to be fine, she still didn't feel it. The looming court-martial wasn't helping at all, of course. Nor was the ache in her heart from Mary's tragic loss. She would get used to it again, she knew. But in the meantime, she decided to let herself mourn freely. Perhaps one day, years from now, when her prison sentence was finally over and she could once more be free, she would feel better…. Perhaps. But not now, Susan knew. Not for a long while.

She left her old room, and wandered up to Cockroach's lab, looking out on the view over the common room. She thought about all the things she had done as Ginormica. Fighting the robot on the Golden Gate Bridge. Visiting the nation's capital and meeting the President. Getting her arm jammed in an alien digging machine and hospitalized. Touring Rome with the Doc. Vegas with Mary. Poor, sweet, Mary…. Wiping away a stray tear or two, she turned to Cockroach's library, and looked at the huge array of books on all sorts of subjects he had collected over the years, some of which were very old indeed.

The title of one caught her eye. "Paradise Lost," she said to herself softly. "That's the poem Mary told me about. I guess that about sums up my life right now."

She reached out and took it down, opening to a page near the start. It was a long poem, and not that easy to follow. She idly flipped through a few pages, then spotted a familiar line, about ruling in hell and serving in heaven. One passage a bit above it caught her eye.

"The mind is its own place, and in itself, can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven," Susan read out loud. "One who brings a mind not to be changed by Place or Time. What matter where, if I be still the same…."

She closed the book. "But I'm not the same, Mary. That's the problem. I can never be the same again." She sat down in Cockroach's chair and slumped over his desk, resting her head on her arms, and let the tears flow.

* * *

Susan was lying despondent on her bed in her cell the next morning, hugging Pussy-Boots and staring blankly at the far wall, when there was a short but loud rap on her door. Startled, she sat up quickly.

"Wh—who is it?" she called, her throat sore from crying.

"Monger. I… I need to talk to you."

"Yes, sir," Susan said, slipping off her bed and standing up. The door slid open, and Monger walked in.

"Is it… is it my, uh, hearing, sir?" she asked nervously, her heart pounding.

"No, it's not," Monger told her. He seemed extremely agitated, and Susan looked puzzled. Seeing her face, the general took a deep breath, and ran his hand through his short hair, relaxing his expression with an effort.

"Murphy, we have a… situation."

"Sir?"

"There's something I need to ask you first. About the quantonium."

"The quantonium, sir?"

"What I want to know is, you gave it up earlier, when these aliens took you. So why do you want it back now? Are you just trying to bounce up and down in size like some silly cartoon figure, big when it suits you, then small again?"

Susan shook her head. "No, sir, not at all. Never."

"Then why? Explain."

"You see, sir, the problem is, I've never really made a choice to be Ginormica. The first time, it literally dropped on my head. Like Bob said. The second time, it wasn't as if I had a real choice then either. My friends were in danger, the ship was about to explode. We'd all have died if I hadn't taken the quantonium back. That wasn't a real choice. I had no choices then. And I think that's the problem. I felt forced into it. The first time, certainly. And the second time, maybe subconsciously. I think that might have been part of the reason I lashed out at the other monsters—at my friends. Maybe I subconsciously blamed them for forcing me to save them. I hope not. But I wasn't really ready for it. Not then. It was too quick a decision."

"And you are ready now?"

"I th…think so, sir," Susan said, her heart skipping several beats as her hopes began to soar again. "This time, I don't want it back to save my friends, or my own life. I've had time to think. Time to do nothing but think. I finally know what I want from myself, and I know I can finally handle it. I know where I went wrong before." Susan paused, and glanced up at the general's face, but it was unreadable.

"Carry on," he simply said.

"Well, I'd always wanted to fit in, get some semblance of a normal life, of course," Susan explained. "And I thought I couldn't do that as a giant. I was always blaming other things for preventing me from fitting in. The government, the media, Derek. But it wasn't them. It wasn't even the quantonium. It was me. What I didn't realise was that I had to learn to accept myself for what I am—what I was—rather than focus on the problems it caused."

"You were complaining a lot about not getting to go shopping, as I recall," Monger told her, deep scepticism apparent in his tone.

Susan nodded. "I was, sir. I was being stupid and petty and foolish. Then Mary came."

"Vampiretta?" Monger's eyes narrowed in puzzlement. "What did she have to do with it?"

"It's the lesson she taught me: never give in to self-pity, as there is always someone who has had it worse than you. For me, that was Mary. I mean, Mary found herself on the streets at age thirteen, having grown up the pampered daughter of an earl, and had to face a life of poverty, loneliness, and fear that I cannot really even begin to imagine. Compared to her, my life as a monster has been one of incredible privilege and comfort, and I was a blind idiot not to see it! Oh Mary, I am so sorry!" Susan buried her face in her hands, and closed her eyes tightly, willing herself not to cry.

Monger raised an eyebrow at the strength of Susan's outburst. "Her loss was tragic. Those SWAT troops were way out of line, frankly. But that's a matter for your trial."

"I was the one out of line, sir," Susan said sadly. "I disobeyed orders. From you, from the police. I thought I was a superhero, above the law. In my heart, I guess I had cut myself off from humanity because I felt it was rejecting me. So I rejected it. I became the monster they saw me as." Tears were running down her cheek, but she let them fall.

"If you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you," Monger noted quietly.

Susan nodded. "I guess. So I had to run away. From everyone I had hurt, or could hurt. And when the aliens came, then I could run away from Ginormica. I thought that would solve everything. I thought I could be safe, be normal and like everyone else, without the risk of harming others, if I cut off that part of me. And now I've been given the chance to return to a normal life, a normal size, I realised I've changed. I can't go home again. I can get back to normal on the outside, but inside, I can never be plain old Susan Murphy again. I can no more cut off Ginormica than I could cut off part of my soul. I have to be her, because I am her."

"But you hated what she made you become," Monger countered.

Susan shook her head. "I thought I did—I thought she was to blame. But it was me. It was all me. Everything that made her do what she did is still inside me. Being Ginormica doesn't change that. But being Ginormica means I can be so much more." Susan took a deep breath. "General, I've never had to fight for what I believed in. I've never really had much I believed in. Until now. And what I believe in is us—the goodness, the strength, of Team Monster. Even when I wasn't there for you, you were all there for me. We're a symbol to the world of the power of redemption, and of the last people on earth you'd expect to be heroes, becoming those heroes."

Monger looked at her steadily for several minutes. Susan stood there without moving, wondering what he was thinking. Her heart was beating fast, and she could feel a drop of nervous sweat roll down her back.

"Do you know why I am in charge of you lot?" Monger said eventually, his face serious. "Why I have been relegated to babysitting a bunch of misfit monsters in a forgotten underground base for fifty years?"

Susan shook her head, puzzled at the sudden change in topic. "Uh, no, sir."

"Well, let's just say that you are not the only soldier in this room who once screwed up big-time," Monger said quietly.

"Were you… were you court-martialled as well?" Susan gasped, unable to believe her ears. Monger? The by-the-book disciplinarian and decorated general? Surely not?

He nodded brusquely. "It was a long time ago, back in Korea. In 1950, at No Gun Ri. We were being infiltrated by Norks disguised as refugees. They would come up to us, pretending to seek help, and suddenly open fire. So… so we treated refugees as enemy soldiers. They fled to tunnels underneath a railroad bridge. We shot them. Children were screaming in fear and the adults were praying for their lives, and the whole time we never stopped shooting." Monger closed his eyes, and took a few deep breaths, his face pale. "I shot, too. Shot at people. I don't know if they were soldiers or what. Kids, there were kids out there, it didn't matter what it was, eight to eighty, blind, crippled or crazy, I shot 'em all…" He petered out, and just stood there, suddenly looking very old and tired indeed.

Susan stood in front of the general, aghast. He glanced over at her, then looked back down at his strong hands.

"The army concealed the truth until 1999, and even now whitewashes it," Monger admitted quietly. "But, secretly, they court-martialled us. Then put us in positions where we would not be able to tell our story ever—positions like this, in top secret military research facilities, which are even more secure than jails. So… I know what it is to screw up, Murphy—Susan. I know what it is to carry a burden of guilt. The ghosts of the past are always hungry. They will consume you if you let them."

"We're all monsters, aren't we?" Susan asked quietly. "You, me, Cockroach. I wish I'd been able to realise it earlier, before… before all this happened."

Monger shook his head. "You couldn't. It's almost impossible. The irony is that it takes doing what you and I have done to achieve the maturity and insight to understand just why we did it, and become the sort of person who could never do so again."

"Like the Doc," Susan stated softly.

"Like him," Monger agreed. "It's precisely because of his crime, his guilt, that he is such a gentle, caring person—and don't you ever tell him I said he was!" he added quickly.

"Never, sir," Susan assured him with a slight smile.

Monger's face turned serious again. "Do you know what you would be giving up by becoming Ginormica again? No more fitting in. You'd be back in a world of dollhouses."

"I've been thinking about almost nothing else for so long now," Susan said quietly, her face calm and determined. "There is nothing that brings the desire to make the most of your opportunities more powerfully than their loss. That's the opportunity it gave me: the chance to grow beyond the confines of my upbringing, to be all I could be. It's not about the quantonium. It's not about the power, as power is nothing without control. It's how you use that power."

Monger's eyes narrowed. "And you think you have learned how to use that power?"

Susan shook her head. "No, sir. But I have finally learned that I need to learn."

There was another long silence. Monger paced up and down, then looked over at Susan, who stood nervously at attention, her heart in her mouth.

"You were… glorious," he said quietly. "There was no one who could touch you." He stopped pacing, and smoothed down his uniform. "Okay, listen carefully, Major. We have a serious problem, and I needed to be quite certain of your ability to handle this next mission. And maybe I needed to talk myself into carrying it out. Because this is going to be extremely risky. What we are going to do now must absolutely never, ever, be spoken of without my express permission, under any circumstances. Not to your parents, not to the other monsters, not even to Cockroach. No one! Do you understand?"

"Uh, a mission? Me? Why me?"

"Do you understand, Major?" Monger repeated.

"Y—yes, yes sir. Never. I promise."

"This is serious. No one. Ever."

"I understand, sir. I swear I will not tell anyone. Cross my heart and hope to die."

"Good. Now listen, because I am not authorized to tell you this. The NSA's and Secret Service's paranoia has paid off: thanks to the security and isolation of this site, no one outside of a very, very few people knows what I am going to tell you. Three hours ago, the President of the United States was kidnapped!"

"What?!" Susan gasped, unable to believe her ears. "How? Why? When?"

"Those alien bastards have taken him! I'll tell you the details on the way."

"On the way where?"

Monger tossed a small bundle at Susan. "Get changed."

"Ch—changed? What do you mean? What's this?"

"Well, unless you want to burst out of your clothes again and end up naked, you're going to need that," he told her curtly.

Her heart pounding, Susan picked up the bundle. It was her quantonium entanglement skin.

"Sir?" Susan gasped. "Does this mean…?"

He grinned wryly. "Well, 'Be All You Can Be' is the army motto, after all…"

Susan burst into tears and slumped to the ground, startling the general. "Th… th… thank you so… so much, sir," she whispered when she could breathe again.

"Don't thank me yet—this doesn't mean I've forgiven you. This wouldn't be happening at all if it weren't a matter of vital national—global—importance!"

"No, sir," Susan agreed readily. "I understand. But still… thank you. You've saved my life."

"Yeah, well, less of that, Major. We don't have any time to lose! Get changed and meet me out front! You have one minute!"

"Sir!" Susan cried happily, and started stripping off even before Monger was completely out of sight. She quickly slipped off her bra and panties and slid into the dark blue suit, which closed around her like a second skin. Then she dashed out to Monger's jeep and got in.

"Put this on," Monger told her, handing her a standard major's army uniform as he drove off.

"Why?"

"Just do it. I don't have time to chit-chat."

"Sorry, sir." While not easy, Susan managed to get the green pants and shirt on over the quantonium entanglement skin as the general headed out of the old common room at high speed, taking a series of tunnels that led deeper into the bowels of the earth.

"Right, listen carefully," he told her as he steered the jeep between assembled piles of weaponry and supplies. "Gallaxhar was not the first alien to visit Earth."

"Yeah, Doc said something like that. He said we were visited in 1947."

"Out of the way, you idiot!" Monger swerved to avoid a maintenance worker on a loader, and then made a sharp left. "Yeah, he was right. As were all those crazy conspiracy theorists," Monger added, snorting.

"My friend Rene always said a flying saucer crashed in Roswell, and the government was housing aliens."

"Well, she was half right," Monger admitted. "The UFO didn't actually crash." He took a sharp right, and Susan was nearly thrown against him. "We shot it down."

"You what?" she gasped.

"The US Army took down a flying saucer. With a nuke. Killing all five aliens on board. We figured it was a small scout craft, sent to investigate us after the bombs on Japan told the universe we had discovered atomic power. Anyway, we kept the aliens, and the remains of the flying saucer, at Area 51 for decades, then they were relocated here once Groom Lake became too well known."

"Cockroach told me that too," Susan admitted.

"He certainly seems to have figured out a great deal he shouldn't have. The man is a true genius, no doubt," Monger grudgingly admitted. "Anyway, and this is something Cockroach does not know, the problem is that the aliens we shot down and killed back in '47 are the same mob whose fleet of very large warships is now hovering directly over us."

"They—they found out?" Susan suddenly realised.

"Somehow, yeah. When they came down to meet the President, and scanned the base for quantonium. Must have picked up their people, I reckon. And boy were they ever pissed. Turns out they take a very dim to having ambassadors of peace be shot down. So now they've abducted the President and are demanding we hand over all the quantonium, all alien artifacts, and the bodies of their ambassadors, or they will take it all by force. Well, the United States does not react well to terrorist threats."

"So you're giving me the quantonium to keep it from the aliens?" Susan asked. "Won't they just take it from me anyway?"

Monger shook his head. "I'm giving you the quantonium, Major, so you and the other monsters can go and rescue the President and kick some alien butt on the way."

"Uh, thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me yet. This operation isn't authorized. In fact, I've been forbidden from getting involved. I'm not giving you the quantonium, I'm stealing it. If this fails, I'll be joining you in the court-martial."

"Uh, General, do you mind if I ask you…"

"Why I'm disobeying a direct order?" Monger asked as he took a hard right, then swerved left into a new tunnel. "Right now we're facing a hostile alien fleet, the President's a hostage, and we are powerless to respond. And I've been ordered to sit on my hands and do nothing. At No Gun Ri I followed orders, and got court-martialled for it. Disgraced for serving my country. Hidden away here, deep underground in a secret base. They even told my wife I had been killed in action. I never saw her again. My failure at No Gun Ri has haunted me ever since. So I am going to follow my own conscience for once, do what needs to be done, and orders be dammed."

Susan swallowed hard, her face pale. "I… I… understand, sir. I'm—I'm sorry about your wife."

"So. We're going to try and rescue the President. By disobeying orders. Stealing top-secret government property. Still want to go through with it?" he asked, glancing at her nervous face.

Nervously, Susan nodded. "I'm r…ready, sir. Once I'm Ginormica again, I'll… things will be different. I'll be worthy of it. I promise. For Mary's sake."

"I thought I knew my man—my woman," Monger said gruffly. He pulled up a few minutes later at a large guarded doorway.

"Right, Murphy—Major. This is the alien section. General Putsch is in charge here, but right now he's busy in the Situation Room, trying to negotiate with those alien scum. Do not speak to anyone, or answer any questions. I'll do all the talking. Is that clear?"

Susan nodded. "Yes, sir. Thank you sir."

"Good." The general pressed a button on his radio. "This is Monger. Access authorization code Alpha Echo Thirty-five."

There was a brief pause, then the door slid open. Monger drove in, and passed through a series of doors, each one guarded. He barely paused for any of them, leaving the guards to scramble to open the doors before the general's jeep smashed into them. Susan held on tightly, her heart pounding in fear, exhilaration, and hope. Eventually, the general brought the jeep to a halt in front of a large door.

"Out, Major," he ordered quietly. Susan hopped out of the jeep as Monger went up to the two men guarding the door.

"I need access to Sample R-1, Captain…Captain Marfell," he told them.

"Sorry, General, orders. No one but General Putsch is allowed in. This is above top secret."

"I know. The Major and I are here at his orders. Our alien guests will be arriving shortly with the President to take possession of the sample, and I have been ordered to conduct a final security sweep."

"Sir, I will need to confirm that with General Putsch."

"If the General had time to arse around with confirmations from weak-minded individuals such as yourself, do you think he would asked another general in the United States Army to supervise this? See these stars on my collar? That's how important this is! Now open the damn door, you idiots!"

"Uh, yes, General, sir, right away!" the captain stammered. He pressed a button, and the door slid open.

"With me, Major," Monger ordered. Susan obediently followed him, and gasped. She had never seen a room as big. The ceiling was lost to sight in the blackness, invisible behind rows of suspended lights which illuminated a bizarre range of twisted metal objects. Susan recognized the Friscobot, and what looked like large sections of Gallaxhar's ship. There was also a smaller ship, of a similar three-armed design, over in the distance.

"Are… are the aliens here?" she whispered as she hurried after the rapidly-walking general.

"No. This is parts storage," Monger told her. "We were in the process of bringing in the Romebot as well. This is what we are here for, however."

He stopped at a large complex two-level structure, surrounded by huge pipes and machinery, set up in the huge room. Susan could see a familiar blue-green glow coming from where its roof would normally be, and her heart skipped a beat. She listened as Monger gave her some last-minute instructions, but her eyes were unable to stop staring at the quantonium glow. She felt like it was almost singing to her, welcoming her. Utter nonsense, she knew, but she did think she could hear a faint, high sweet humming, pulsing gently.

"Major! Are you listening?"

"Every word, General!" Susan replied, saluting as she turned to face him.

"Good. We only get one chance at this. Do not screw it up!"

"I know what's at stake, sir. You can count on me. Absolutely."

Monger nodded. "Good. Because if you screw it up, it's both our necks. Follow me, Major."

He climbed up the steps to the second-level entrance, and entered, Susan hard on his heels. She found herself in a large roofless area, lined with machinery and computer terminals, and manned by half a dozen people in white lab coats. In the centre was a wide short shaft, surrounded by a railing, from which the blue-green glow and the humming was coming from.

"General, sir? We weren't expecting you!" one of the scientists said, leaping up.

"At ease, men," Monger told them. "Which one of you is in charge?"

"Me, sir. Doctor Winchester, PhD."

"I didn't assume you were an MD," Monger growled. He glanced over at Susan, and she nodded. "Right, Doc. The rest of you, get over here. Listen up. The President's going to be arriving in a few hours. He's going to want to know all about this weird goop you're playing around with."

"Well, we've got it supported by a magnetic field at the moment, as it destroys any physical vessel we try and contain it in. That's the best we can do at the moment. As to what exactly it is, or how it works…" Winchester trailed off, and looked helplessly at the other scientists. "I'm afraid we don't have a clue, General."

"Yeah, well, that's not my concern," Monger said. "I'm here to check over your security, and run through exactly what you will be showing the President when he gets here. Now, you can start off by explaining what that terminal over there does…."

Following Monger's instructions, Susan carefully edged back as the rest of the scientists gathered around the general, who was talking very loudly and rapidly about security arrangements, gesturing wildly as he lead the others over to the corner, away from her. She backed up to the railing surrounding the chamber, and peered in. About ten feet below was a large amorphous blob of blinding light, surrounded by curved segments of metal that were circling it at high speed. The quantonium. At last. Susan breathed a sigh of relief. It was so close now….

She quietly stepped over the railing, and looked down. It was there, waiting for her. Just a single plunge, and she would be back to normal again. Just a jump. That was all. She would be Ginormica again. So why wasn't she jumping? Susan took a deep breath, and closed her eyes, feeling the rail in her hands.

"Mary, you showed me the way to redemption," she whispered. "And I swear in your memory that I shall accept everything that comes with this power and responsibility."

"You there! Stop! Stop immediately!" came a sudden shriek. Susan opened her eyes, and saw a scientist lunging towards her. "Get out of there!"

Susan smiled at him and stepped off the edge, falling into the glowing chamber.

"Help! Shut it off! She'll be killed!" He lunged for the emergency cutoff switch.

"STOP!" Monger bellowed. "Don't touch that!"

"General, are you crazy? We have to get her out of there before that—that substance kills her! We have to retract the magnetic containment and return the substance to the lower chamber!"

"You'll do no such thing!" Monger growled.

Glaring at the short general, Winchester and the other scientists gathered around the railing.

"It's gone!" he shouted. "The substance has gone! Major! Are you all right?"

Susan didn't hear him. She had leapt off the edge, landing directly in the quantonium. A blinding light had overwhelmed her senses, and then, for the third time, Susan felt the familiar rush of energy spreading throughout her body, penetrating her, binding itself to her in the most intimate way possible. _Welcome back, old friend_, she thought to herself, and smiled. Moving to the side, she climbed the access ladder, and stepped out to face the others.

"My God, General! She's… she's glowing! Actually glowing!" Winchester shrieked, looking at her in horror. "Potter! Get the decontamination unit, now!"

"Belay that order, Potter!" Monger shouted. "And step back!"

"What? Are you insane, General? She'll be dead in minutes! We have to do something! God even knows why she's still alive!"

"Watch," Monger told him. Winchester stared at the general, then suddenly realised what was happening to Susan.

"My God! General! What in the name of—"

Susan's uniform was splitting and shredding, falling off her as she grew. In less than a minute she was at her full height again, and the glowing silver metallic energy lines on her quantonium skin slowly faded as her transformation was complete. Susan felt amazing. Each time it seemed to imbue her with even more strength and confidence. She felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders; as if she had surfaced from deep under the sea to breathe in sweet, fresh air. She felt incredibly alive: every pore, every hair, every cell in her magnificent body seemed to tingle and vibrate with pent-up power. She looked around, seeing the room from her new height, and felt an overwhelming rush of happiness flood through her. She was back, back where she belonged.

"My God! What on Earth?" Winchester gasped. "That's… that's… her! The—the giant!"

"Don't call her the giant," Monger corrected him, pride shining from his face. "Her name's Susan!"

"Thanks, General," Susan said with a big smile. "But the name… is Ginormica."

...

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**: Yet another very talky chapter, as it got long and I ended up splitting it up. The next one will have more action. Promise.

Anyway, the title reference is explained in the text. It was a very real massacre, and fits in with Monger's timeline nicely, I think. Both "_Children were screaming in fear and the adults were praying for their lives, and the whole time [they] never stopped shooting_" and "_I shot, too. Shot at people. I don't know if they were soldiers or what. Kids, there were kids out there, it didn't matter what it was, eight to eighty, blind, crippled or crazy, I shot 'em all_…" are taken from testimony by people involved in the actual massacre. The idea of hungry ghosts is slightly influenced by the Chinese idea of the _èguǐ_, or "hungry ghost," but only slightly.

I assume Doc has a fairly extensive classical literature library as well. So no surprise he would have _Paradise Lost_.

"If you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you" is from Nietzsche: "He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you."

Getting Susan in a position where she could get the Q back was a little harder than I had anticipated, and I was limited by my self-imposed timetable of what the aliens were doing: it is important that she make the decision completely freely, without any hint of external pressure. That is what differentiates this choice from her previous one on G's spaceship.

I hope my American readers (my stats show that the overwhelming majority of my readers are US-based) enjoy their long weekend, and if you have any comments, critiques, questions, or opinions about this chapter I should love to hear them...

[Posted 25 May 2013]

[**Temporary Note 1, 1-6-13**] I know it's been a week without an update, which is long for me. The next section is trickier than usual as it features lots of action, and very climactic action at that, so will be a few more days at least. I need to plan out the structure here very carefully, you see. I just do not want anyone to think I have abandoned it. Absolutely not.

[**Temporary Note 2, 7-6-13**] It's been two weeks since the last post, but the next chapter _is_ being written. I'm just rather horrendously busy at the moment, sorry.

And thanks to everyone for getting this story to top 10,000 views...


	29. Ginormica Unbound

**29. Ginormica Unbound**

Ginormica danced gracefully around the huge room, exulting in her size and strength. It was like all her birthdays and all her Christmasses come at once, she thought. Now she could face anything: court-martial trials, invading alien fleets, even the media.

"Major!" A stentorian bellow cut through her euphoria.

The giantess stopped in mid-twirl and flopped heavily down to the ground, shaking the structure and sending several of the scientists running screaming. "General?" she asked, propping her chin on one hand and smiling broadly.

"Have you forgotten the next stage of our mission?" he asked.

Susan's face went serious. "No, sir. Awaiting fresh orders, sir!"

"Back to the Monster Containment Facility, pronto! Take the far door, over behind the Friscobot." Monger pointed towards the robot. Susan sat up and peered over towards where he was pointing, spotting a massive door.

"I was wondering how you got that in," Susan called down. She felt her throat, and smiled. Her voice was back to the deep, vibrant sound it had been as a giant. It was surprisingly comforting. Like the low rumblings Insecto made when she was happy. Susan recalled a number of naps she had taken, lying on the huge moth's soft fur and listening to that quiet, low, almost cat-like purr penetrate her dreams.

"Follow the bulk freight tunnels back to the MCF, and wait for me there," Monger ordered. "I have to smooth things over with our scientist friends here, then make arrangements for our departure."

"Sir!" Susan said. "Thank you so much, sir! You're the best general ever!"

"And don't you forget it, ya big… ya giant lug," Monger told her with a crooked grin.

Susan saluted, and dashed off, her feet thumping heavily on the floor as her nearly twelve tons of weight crashed down with each stride. The freight tunnels were similar in design to the huge access tunnels in the monster area, and Susan could fit down them easily.

"Thank God for Cold War black budgets," she said to herself with a grin as she hurried along, amazed as always at the scale of the secret base. "Bet we couldn't afford this these days!"

After taking only a couple of wrong turns, Susan soon found herself back at the common room.

"Hi guys! Miss me?" Susan called happily. "Link? Bob?"

"Bob!" her translucent blue friend called. "Oh it's so great to be back to my old size again! Woah, you're huge! We missed you so much!"

"Same to you, Bob, I think," Susan said with a grin. "Where's the Linkster?" She shouted his name, but there was no response.

"Dunno," Bob said with a rippling shrug. "Have you looked under the sofa?"

"Bob, where's Link?" she asked again. "Link? Get out here, silly! We got work to do! Link? Where are you?"

"I haven't seen him for years!" Bob said happily. Then his expression changed. "No, wait, I mean I haven't seen him for hours. Hours, years. Why are they so alike? They both end in 'erz'."

"Bob, where is Link?" Susan asked, trying to remain calm. "Has something happened to him?"

In answer, there was a long, low howl from Insecto's chamber that rattled the glass. Susan suddenly had a cold pit of fear in her stomach, and the blue blob's face squished into a strange shape.

"He's the… the Missing Link? No, no. Ah! The Link is missing!"

Susan straightened up in shock. "He's gone too? Of course! I remember! He was with the President! They must have taken him too!" Her face darkened. "God, I hope he's all right! If not…."

"We'll plough into them, and smash 'em!" Bob cried.

"Works for me," Susan agreed. "Or it would, if they didn't have hostages..."

"Did you say hot dogs? Where're the hot dogs? I love hot dogs!"

"No, silly! Hostages."

"Oh. I was really hoping there'd be hot dogs. I'm hungry…."

"You're always hungry."

"Want some chocolate?" Bob asked.

"Actually I'm a bit peckish too, come to think of it," Susan realised. "I was too depressed to eat breakfast this morning. Yeah, some chocolate would be nice. How'd you guess? It's like you read my mind. Oh wait, you did," she grinned. "Be right back!"

Susan headed to her room, and found an opened Ginormibar, left over from one of the last times Mary had visited her. She knew she would have to make them last, as it was very unlikely Ghirardelli would be wanting to continue their association with a rampaging, murdering monster.

She bit her lip. "No, Susan," she told herself. "You won't weep, you won't feel sorry for yourself. You're back to your true size, you're Ginormica again, and you can face anything now. Anything. _Anything_…."

She took a deep breath, and broke off a chunk of the bar to share with Bob, then a smaller chunk which she popped straight in her mouth. Sea Salt wasn't her favourite flavour, but it was definitely interesting. She headed out, and opened the door to the common room just as a side door opened and Monger drove out along one of the encircling access platforms. In the jeep beside him was a still heavily bandaged Cockroach, and a wheelchair and medical supplies were in the back, being steadied by his nurse, Rachel. The electric jeep came to a gentle halt on the main platform-cum-dining area, and the short general hopped out.

"Nurse, get the gear down. I'll shift Cockroach."

"Hi, Doc," Susan said, smiling down at the insect-headed man as she sat back down again and handed Bob some of the chocolate. "I'm back."

Cockroach looked up from his wheelchair, noticing her for the first time. There was a long silence. His other eye was now healed, and both of them grew bigger and rounder and bigger and rounder until Susan started to wonder if they would fall out of his head. His mouth moved, but nothing came out.

"Uh, Doc…" Susan began nervously. "Are you okay?"

"Rachel, push me closer," Cockroach asked quietly. The nurse did so, moving him to near Susan's face as the giantess laid her head down on her arm, putting her at eye level. She smiled encouragingly, but nervously.

"Say something, Doc," Susan begged, suddenly very scared. Surely—surely he would welcome her transformation? Surely he would not reject her like Derek had? Nothing, nothing at all, would be worth that. Not again. Susan was now terrified that she had made the wrong choice, and bit her lip nervously.

"There… there is a moment when I look upon you, and no speech is left within me," Cockroach eventually said softly. "My tongue fails, and a tremulous, sudden fire races under my skin. My eyes can see nothing before them; my ears are filled with a rush of sound." He paused, and shook his head. "Mere words, even those of the immortal Sapphos herself, are made but pale shadows by the blaze of your magnificence. Susan—oh, Ginormica, my dear…. Welcome back."

"That was so sweet. Thanks, Doc," Susan said with a huge smile of relief. She held out her hand, so Cockroach could hold her finger. "I'm really glad to be back to normal. Now I can face anything. With you and my other friends by my side, I know I can take on whatever the world throws at me."

"Bravo, my dear. If I might inquire, how did you manage to persuade the general?"

Susan looked over at Monger, who stared back at her, an unspoken warning on his lips.

"Oh, I can be very persuasive when I want," she said with a two-foot wide grin. Monger nodded briefly, and Susan shot him a quick wink.

"Well, however you did it, I'm glad you're happy again," Cockroach assured her.

"I am. I really am. I'm so happy. I'm afraid… uh, there's one slight problem, however," she admitted.

"Oh? Surely not?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

"I'm a little too big to fit in your room now," Susan told him. "So I won't be able to spend the day with you like before."

Cockroach smiled. "I told you, my dear. The best way to make me happy is for you to be happy, and the best way for you to be happy is to be who you really are. To be true to yourself. And besides," he added with a grin, "there's no reason on earth why I can't be moved out to the large room, the one where you have your medicals."

"Doc, you're a genius!" Susan enthused. "And you're looking so much better, too," she added happily. "It won't be long now, will it, before you're back to your old self?"

"Well, I'm able to leave my bed for a few hours," he agreed. "But it'll still be several weeks before I can return to active duty. But now, my dear, you have given me an added inspiration for getting better fast."

"All right, enough of that sappy stuff," Monger called, and dismissed the nurse. When she had gone, he activated the central control panel. "Right, monsters! We have work to do! We have a missing President, a missing monster, and several missing staff members as well! And we're not going to sit on our hands and let that liberal Euro-commie General Putsch negotiate away our advantages! They want the quantonium, the alien tech? As Moses told Pharaoh: from my cold, dead hands!"

"General! Why didn't you tell me Link had been taken as well?" Susan asked.

"Need to know basis," Monger informed her. "I needed to know you would make your decision completely freely, without pressure."

"Well, now that I do know, we're definitely going after them! If those aliens have harmed him, I will personally ensure not a single one escapes this planet alive! Come on!"

"Hold yer horses, Major! I like your enthusiasm, but there's a few things to sort out yet! Sit tight!"

"Yes, sir," Susan told him, flopping back down on her couch, and drumming her fingers on her tabletop impatiently.

"So what are we actually going to do?" Cockroach asked. "Obviously, I am in no fit state to join a rescue operation, as much as I would like to."

"We'll do the grunt work," Monger told him. "Doc, you'll be monitoring us via video and sound from the control centre here instead. You'll have access to as much of the alien tech as we've been able to figure out. I've got a remote camera headset unit, and I want you all to wear headsets so you can stay in contact with him and with each other. Ginormica, you'll be using the set you used in Rome. It's still in your locker."

"So how do we get to the aliens?" Bob asked. "MF-1?" He shaped himself into a crude plane, and made an engine noise with his mouth.

"Negative. We'll take Insectosaurus," Monger told her. "Monsters, this operation is strictly off the record. The army and the government will deny any knowledge of our actions. We are acting as rogue agents. Officially unofficial. And unofficially unofficial as well, come to think of it. So we don't involve anyone outside this group. Not even a pilot. The fewer, the better."

"Uh, General, sir? I, er, have an idea," Susan said nervously.

"You do?" Monger asked. "Well, spit it out, soldier."

"I mean, that is, instead of taking Insecto, who might get shot at again, why not offer them what they want? Me. That is, my quantonium."

"What!? Are you out of your mind, girl?" Monger stormed. "After everything you said about how you needed it back? After I—after what I did to get it back for you? You explicitly said you weren't looking to bob up and down like a silly cartoon!"

"Yes, I thought you wanted to go back to your old life, Susan," Cockroach added, looking puzzled.

Susan shook her head. "I do, Doc, and I don't mean to give them my quantonium, either, sir. What I mean is, why not offer them what they want, and see if they'll take the bait?"

"Yay, we're going fishing! I love fishing!" Bob cried happily.

"You mean…?" Monger looked at her curiously.

"I mean, sir, with respect, that we play the same trick on them that, well, that I did on you with Mary."

Monger's expression hardened for a brief instant, then he grinned. "Major, I never thought I'd say something so corny, but that's so crazy it just might work. We go in suitcases?"

"Pockets, I was thinking, sir. If I wore a standard MCF jumpsuit over this, that is. It'll be a tight fit, but should work."

"That's leadership thinking, Major. Make it so."

* * *

Susan clenched and unclenched her fists as the lifting platform neared the surface, trying to calm her nerves. Every hour that passed before they could go and rescue Link and the others made Susan that much more anxious and angry. But she knew that careful plans needed to be laid, and that just charging in would result in their immediate capture. But now they were ready, and were going to kick some alien ass, and Susan was feeling excited, scared, and generally very tense. And the adrenalin injection that Doc had given her was not helping her nerves any, she knew.

"Everybody still okay?" Susan asked.

"Fine," came Monger's voice in Susan's ear. "Doc, you still reading us?"

"Loud and clear, General. Good luck!" Cockroach's voice told them all.

"I'm enjoying the view," Bob added. "Your pocket is just amazing!"

Susan laughed. "I wouldn't know."

"No idle chit-chat, monsters. Keep focused. Ginormica, do not allow your quantonium to be extracted!"

"Not a chance, sir," Susan assured him. "They can't just stick a needle in and take it—they need a special machine, and so long as I stay out of it, I'm safe."

"Good. Ensure that you do. We're going to need your strength to get us out of the ship with the President and the others."

"Understood, sir. I won't let you down. Not this time."

Susan closed her eyes and basked in the warm sun as the hatch opened and she emerged into the open air. Even the air smelled sweeter as Ginormica, she thought. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and looked up, then swallowed hard. There were about half a dozen huge alien ships hovering overhead. They were all grey, save for the one immediately above her, which was painted black, and had five arms, not three.

"That must be the mother ship," Susan muttered. "Well, if they're still scanning for the quantonium, it shouldn't take them long. Hey guys! Here I am! Come and get me!" She did a little pirouette, spinning around.

"Knock that off immediately!" came Monger's angry voice. "It's uncomfortable enough as it is in here, without you jumping around!"

"Sorry, sir." Susan walked ahead slowly, as if she were on her way to somewhere, and looked around. The base appeared utterly deserted. Everyone had been evacuated underground, and she was the only person there. _So they can't fail to spot me_, Susan told herself. _It's just a matter of—whoops!_

She found herself almost losing her balance as a beam of light stabbed down from the black ship above her.

"Here we go, guys!" she called out. "They took the bait!"

"Are we having fish tonight?" Bob asked. "'Coz I love fish! Shut up, Bob!"

"Doc, I'm feeling a bit woozy," Susan said as she was lifted higher and higher. "You sure that injection you gave me will stop me falling unconscious like before?"

"The adrenalin should be enough to counteract the effects, yes. Coupled with what appears to be an increasing resistance, based on how you woke earlier last time, I think you'll be fine," Cockroach's disembodied voice assured her.

"I still… feel… sleep… sleepy…. Doc, talk to me! Keep me awake!"

"Uh, of course, my dear. Um, did you know that the cockroach is one of the fastest creatures on earth? They can move fifty body lengths a second—equivalent to two hundred miles an hour at a human scale. Unfortunately while I am fairly fast, I am nothing like that."

"Yeah, that's cool, but can you tell me a joke or something!"

"Uh, a joke? Um, okay… One atom says to the other, 'I lost an electron!' The other atom says 'Really? Are you positive?'"

"Uh… I don't get it, Doc. Is that a joke?"

"Well, sort of. You see, a neutral atom gets a positive charge when it loses an electron, and a negative charge when it gains one. So when the first atom loses…"

"Ah, right, I see. Nah, not that funny, sorry."

"Okay, ah, let's see…. Here's one about statisticians. A statistician goes out shooting with some friends. His first shot misses by ten feet to the left. His second shot misses by ten feet to the right. 'Well, I win,' he says. 'Are you mad?' his friends say. 'You missed both shots!' 'Yeah,' the statistician replies. 'but on average, I hit the target.'"

"That's… oh, okay, I get it," Susan said, and yawned. She twisted around, and saw that she was almost at the ship. "Come on Susan, you can make it. Stay frosty, big girl…"

She was drawn into the belly of the giant ship, and the hatch closed behind her. A few minutes later she found herself lying on the floor of a giant hanger bay. It was immense: Susan realised it must be thousands of feet long, and the far end was lost in the gloom. Off to the other side was the huge entrance, open to the sky. She could see the desert in the distance.

"We made it! Everybody out!" Susan whispered. She removed her jumpsuit pants and laid them carefully on the ground. There was a brief stirring, and Monger and Bob emerged from the pockets. Monger took a series of deep breaths, and fished a fistful of lint out of his waistband.

"General, here's your jetpack," Susan told him, taking it out of her breast pocket. She slipped her jumpsuit shirt off as well, and stood there in her dark blue quantonium entanglement skin. "Okay, now we're in, what's the plan?"

"We need to get to the bridge," Monger told her. "That's where they're being held."

"How do you know that? Can you see through walls?" Bob asked.

"I know it, because that's where the President spoke to us from when he relayed their demands," Monger growled. "Ginormica, they'll be coming for you soon. Wait here for them, and remember not to resist until you hear our signal. Then get out of there and meet us on the bridge."

"What if they get me to the extractor before you make it to the computer core?" Susan asked nervously. "I won't let them take the quantonium again!"

"Kick up a fuss then," Monger told her. "Just so long as their attention is focused on you, that's the main thing."

"What if they try and stop you before you get there?" Susan asked nervously.

"Then it's time to bust some heads," Monger told her. "We've already gone over this. Stop worrying. "He unholstered his gun, and checked the action. "We'll see if these jellyfish can stand up to a US Army-issue M9 sidearm. I've also got my trusty SIG Sauer P226 and a couple of knives. Not to mention a few other surprises."

"Um, yes, I… ah, well, be careful, sir."

"You too, Major," Monger said, saluting.

She watched them leave, then sat down, her back against a supporting pillar, and looked around the area while she waited for the aliens to arrive. It was essentially the same as the hangar bay in Gallaxhar's ship, though did not contain any robots. That made it look even bigger to her. She spotted Air Force One sitting in a corner. Clearly the aliens had just taken the entire plane rather than bother with sorting people out.

"How're they doing, Doc?" she asked after a few minutes of feeling both bored and scared.

"Doing well, my dear," Cockroach informed her. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm really pretty nervous, to be honest. I mean, what if we fail? What if they do manage to take my quantonium?"

"Don't think those sorts of things, Susan. We're Team Monster, remember? We've faced worse than this."

"Less chatter," came Monger's voice. "Have they come for you yet, Ginormica?"

Susan looked around. "No sign, sir."

"Sit tight. The longer they take to get to you, the more time we have."

"Yes, sir. I'll just sit here then. Like a worm on a hook. Susan out."

Susan cut the connection, and sighed. She was just the bait, the distraction, while they did the real work. She couldn't resent that the other monsters were getting to do the heroic stuff—after how she had behaved before, she didn't dare even think about resenting them. It was their time to be heroes, not hers.

As if he were reading her thoughts, Cockroach's voice suddenly interrupted her musing. "They also serve who only stand and wait, you know. Milton said that."

"The 'Paradise Lost' guy?" Susan asked. "Is that where it's from?"

"No, another work. He wrote a few other things as well, of course."

"Yeah, I guess he—sorry Doc, gotta go!"

Susan broke the connection and stood up slowly as a small group of aliens on hoverbikes approached her.

"Carbon-based life form Susan Murphy, our records show that we have already extracted quantonium from you. How is it that you are once more in possession of the forbidden substance?"

"Uh, I, well, I mean… Oh, you see, we thought this would be the best way to deliver it to you, you see," Susan said, thinking quickly. "I mean, it would have been a big hassle to have you come down and pick it up and all that, and so we thought, hey, you know, why not make a personal delivery? So as to, uh, oh yeah, demonstrate our sincerity and sorryness and I seem to be babbling a bit, but never mind about that." She took a quick breath, and carried on, stalling for time. "So, how's about giving us our friends back, and then you can take your guys back, and you know we're really sorry about that and all, only we didn't realise you see, and I guess mistakes were made on both sides, and if you could just give us our people back and I'll give you the quantonium back and you can go back to Mars or Andromeda or Vulcan or wherever you're really from. Say, where are you guys actually from? Is it nice where you are? I'll bet they have a Starbucks there, because you know, everywhere you go there's a Starbucks, and you're bound to have one or two on Jupiter or Alpha Centauri or wherever. Oh, talking of Jupiter, have you guys seen the Grand Canyon? That's not far from here. Take a couple of days and go sightseeing, or ouch! Ow! What the hell?"

Susan rubbed her butt where she had been shot, and glared at the alien behind her.

"That was on the lowest setting, Earthling," the lead alien told. "You are not here to negotiate. You do not have the authority. Analysis of your statements shows no meaning whatsoever. Delays will not be tolerated."

There was a quick purple-pink buzzing blur, and Susan found herself enclosed inside another floating containment device.

"You don't think you'll be allowed to get away with kidnapping the President of the United States, do you?" Susan asked.

"We are getting away with it," the alien explained calmly.

"If you kill him, you're going to find yourself on the business end of a ton of whoop-ass," Susan told them firmly.

"We have no intention of killing him, or any of the hostages. They are merely protection against good behaviour. An examination of your own history will show many similar occasions. One Captain James Cook, for example, would kidnap chiefs of the Pacific Islands when the natives stole something from his ship, and then return them when his property was restored. It was a simple, well-understood business transaction. As it is here. We have neither the time nor the inclination to deal with savage brutes such as your race."

"Savage brutes? I'm an American!"

"All humans are savage brutes," the alien said scathingly.

"Oh yeah, and what was Gallaxhar?" Susan shot back. They were now moving along the large connecting passageway, and Susan was hoping Monger would give her the signal soon.

"Gallaxhar was an aberration. We are a peaceful people, with a rich culture and history going back tens of millennia. You are a barbarian race of savages barely removed from the stone age who still think smartphones are a pretty neat idea."

"Major!" Monger's voice crackled in her ear. "Phase One complete. Code: Do Something Violent!"

"Gladly, sir," she said, and a grin started to spread across her face. "Hey, guys. At least I think you're guys. It's been great chatting with you and all, but I gotta head off now. Places to go, presidents to rescue, you know the drill."

"What are you talking about?" the alien said. "You will not be released until we have removed the forbidden substance.

"Yeah, well, I thought about that, and I changed my mind," Susan informed them. "I'm keeping it."

"I don't think you'll find that's possible," the lead alien said. "We have you confined in an unbreakable force field."

"Well then," Susan shot back, "it's lucky you're around to see what the power of quantonium can do in the hands of someone who knows how to use it!"

She grabbed the glowing force field bars, ignoring the jolts of pain that shot through her arms. With a quick, strong wrench, she ripped the bars apart, smashed down on another with her foot to hold the hole open, then swept her arms around to break through them all. The top part of the cell dropped down, but she caught it and stepped off the floating pad.

"What the Narflag? How could you do that?"

"Don't underestimate us savage Earthlings!" Susan shouted, throwing the top part towards the alien hoverbikes. They swiftly dodged out of the way, and Susan took off back down the passageway, ignoring the cries of "Halt!" behind her.

"They're after me, General!" she called.

"Good work, Major! Keep them busy!"

"Over and ouch!" Susan cried, jumping back as a raygun beam hit her in the arm. It stung rather painfully, but there didn't appear to be any actual damage.

"Susan Murphy, you are ordered to halt! Why do you not comply?"

"Ow, that really smarts," Susan said, slowing to a halt and rubbing her arm. "Why did you have to shoot me?"

"The weapon was on stun. You are only hurt, not harmed. You must cooperate, or you will be hurt some more."

"How about instead if I… run?" Susan asked, dashing off again.

"Computer, close all hanger doors!" the alien ordered.

"Didn't Gallaxhar tell you?" Susan asked, smashing her way through the first one. "These doors really aren't that well made," she added, punching a hole through the next one. "They're really rather flimsy," she continued, destroying the third. She was feeling very pleased with herself indeed. She decided it was partially a combination of the lingering effects of gaining the quantonium, the adrenalin shot she had been given by Cockroach, and just general happiness at being Ginormica again. She had missed this feeling.

"Computer, close blast door!" the lead alien called.

A massive metal plate thudded down onto the floor just in front of Susan. She swung her fist at it, but only made a slight dent.

"Ow. Okay, that one's pretty solid," she admitted, sucking her throbbing knuckles.

"Ten macronomes of pure quadlingonium," the alien told her. "Nothing can break through it."

Susan threw her body against it. It shuddered, but did not break. "Guess you're right," she admitted. "But what if I do this?"

She bent down and got her fingers under the edge, then heaved upwards. The blast door, designed to withstand horizontal forces, moved up surprisingly easily, and Susan ducked and rolled under the moment it was high enough, letting it fall down behind her with a thunderous clang. She smashed her fist through the controls on her side, ensuring that the door wouldn't be opened in a hurry.

"Hey, General, how're you guys doing?" Susan called happily once she was alone. There was no answer. "Hmm. Perhaps the blast door's blocking their signal." Susan tapped the tiny receiver earpiece experimentally.

"Susan! Susan, are you there!" Cockroach hissed.

"Doc? Are they—"

"Quiet! We're being monitored! The aliens have broken Code Navajo. Susan, execute Phase Two!"

"Roger that! On my way! Catch you later, okay?"

"Susan! I—just… just be very careful, please. Please. I… I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you."

"I couldn't either," she joked. "But seriously, Doc. I'll take care. Don't worry. Susan out."

The giantess bit her lip, and looked around to make sure there were no aliens in sight. She was almost certainly being monitored, she realised. So it didn't really matter who saw her, so long as she wasn't actually getting shot at. It was clear that they could probably overwhelm her with sheer numbers, but she would take quite a few of them out with her—and her only hope was that they knew that as well and wouldn't try anything silly. As silly, she realised, as an unauthorized operation to rescue the President of the United States from a hovering alien spacecraft by a few crazy monsters.

* * *

After a few wrong turns, and some fast running to get away from more aliens, Susan eventually smashed through a sealed door onto the main command deck. A dozen aliens immediately levelled weapons at her, and Susan froze.

"Major, glad you could join us," Monger called up. She looked around and spotted Monger, Link, Bob, and the President standing inside a force-field cage, along with a couple of big men in black suits who were looking extremely annoyed.

"Let my people go," Susan growled, facing the aliens.

"And why would we do that?" the nearest alien asked her in a smooth baritone voice.

"I have been explaining to Grand Rear Admiral Demogorgonzola here that he really needs to let us go," Monger called up, "or else I will set off the cascade virus that Dr Cockroach was good enough to develop and that we have just finished implanting in the central computer core."

"Really, Earthling soldier, I will give you credit for trying," a alien in an ornate green and gold uniform stated calmly. "But it defies logic to assume that you would attempt to destroy yourselves and your leader after having gone to all the trouble of trying to rescue him."

"Damn your Vulcan logic, Spocktopus. Mr President, sir," Monger said, saluting his commander-in-chief. "Permission to destroy alien flagship?"

"Permission granted, General," Obama replied grimly. "This plan better work, or we're all toast."

"Our secret weapon's just arrived, sir," Monger grinned. He turned to face Susan. "Ginormica? Prepare to execute Operation So Crazy It Might Work!"

Susan saluted. "At your command, sir!"

"Bluff!" Demogorgonzola scoffed. "Look, you don't need to be so proud. You will look foolish. We are prepared to discuss matters, but our demands must be met. We will not negotiate!"

Monger took out a small remote control device from his jacket, and pressed a short sequence of buttons. Nothing happened, and Demogorgonzola's smirk grew wider.

"Is that it?"

Suddenly the ship gave a lurch to the side, and tilted a few degrees.

"Commander!" an alien cried, looking up from its monitoring station. "We're losing attitude control! Wing Three and Four gravity repulsors are failing! Impact on planetary body estimated to be in twenty centichronons!"

All four of Demogorgonzola's eyes fixed on Monger. "Are you insane?" he hissed, his tentacles writhing. "You've killed yourselves!"

"Live free or die!" Monger shouted as the aliens rushed around trying to repair the damage or flee. "Ginormica, time to unleash that titanic strength of yours! We've got about fifteen minutes to get off this thing before it loses its argument with gravity!"

"Sir! Stand back, please!"

Susan dropped down and swept her leg around in a powerful kick that went straight through the front of the cage, snapping the force field beams. She reached in and grabbed the President with a quick apology, then made a dash for the way she had come in, Bob, Link and the secret service agents hard on her heels and Monger shooting up in his jetpack beside her. She yelped in pain and nearly stumbled as a couple of shots from alien rayguns hit her on her back, but regained her balance and dashed around a corner as more blasts impacted on the wall.

"Agent down!" one of the secret service men shouted as he fell to the ground.

"Keep going!" one of the others yelled.

"Wait, we'll get you!" Susan cried, skidding to a halt.

"You'll do no such thing!" Monger shouted. "Your first and only priority is the President! You must get him to safety!"

"But the agent! He'll be killed!"

"That's his job, Major," Obama told her gently. "Don't make his sacrifice be in vain."

"But—"

"No buts, Major!" Monger yelled. "Protect the President!"

There was a brief pause, then Susan hung her head. "Yes, sir. Of course. I'll get you out of here, Mr President."

With a final glance behind her at the rapidly-approaching aliens, she took to her heels again and sprinted down the corridor, slamming into the wall at the end as she couldn't slow down in time, then headed off in another direction.

"Stop, that's the wrong way!" Monger yelled as Susan abruptly stopped above a high chasm. There was another tall passageway on the other side, but no way to get there.

"Can we get back?" Susan asked.

"Not with the aliens close behind us," Monger told her. "Can you jump that?"

"Should be able to," Susan replied. "Bob, wrap yourself around my chest! Link, Mr President sir, if you could just… yes, that's it."

Bob stretched himself out to form a long ribbon, and looped himself around Susan's shoulder and chest, forming a harness for the fish-ape and the humans.

"Not very dignified, I'm afraid," Susan commented.

"I've had worse, believe me," Obama commented. "When the Secret Service think my life is in danger, they don't care how foolish I look as long as I'm unharmed."

"I'll meet you on the other side, Ginormica," Monger told her, and flew across the chasm with his jetpack. Susan took a few steps back, then sprinted to the edge. Just as she was about to leap, an alien shot her in her leg and she screamed in agony, falling out of the entranceway. Shrieking in fear and pain, her long arms cartwheeling wildly, she fell down the shaft. Scrambling desperately for a hold, she managed to catch a projecting beam with her fingers. Her body swung around, her side slamming into the shaft wall with a deafening crash. Pain shot through her, and she wondered if she had cracked a rib.

"Oh my God! Susan! Are you all right?" Cockroach called, his voice several octaves higher than normal.

"Owwww…" Susan moaned, feeling her side. "Seems intact. I'll live, I guess. Hey, is… is everyone okay?"

"Mr President, sir?" Monger asked, flying up beside them.

"Rattled, but safe, General. Luckily we are held in rather securely."

"Yeah, Bob's a great seatbelt," Link said, looking greener than usual. The two remaining secret service men were both rather pale and sweating.

Susan blinked back tears of pain, then looked down. She could see more beams further down, at regular intervals, spaced about forty feet apart. "I think we should head down, sir," she suggested.

"Make it fast," Monger said as a bolt of blue plasma impacted just by Susan's head.

"Sir!" Susan felt for the next beam with her feet, then bent down quickly to grab it with her hands before dropping down to the next one. After about the sixth she slipped, but just managed to grab a supporting bracket and then get down to the next beam before the bracket gave way. Her heart was pounding, and her mouth was dry.

"Try not to do that again," Link commented. "I think the President is getting a little motion sickness."

"I'm fine, Major," Obama replied. "Not comfortable, but it beats being a prisoner."

"Not far to go now, Major," Monger told Susan, who was breathing deeply, clinging tightly to the beam. "Do you need a rest?"

"I'll… I'll be fine, sir," she said. "It's just been a while since I had to do gym in P.E. class…. And I wasn't any good anyway."

"You're doing a fantastic job, Major," the President told her. "At this rate I'm going to have to award you another medal."

"Once I get out of jail, that is," Susan added. Her impending court-martial was never far from her thoughts, even now. She suddenly shrieked in pain as a blast hit her hand, causing her to lose her grip. With a cry of pure terror, she fell the final sixty or seventy feet, curling into a protective ball around the President and Link and rolling with the impact. Then she lay flat on her back, panting with adrenalin and pain.

"I don't think they're using the lowest settings any more, sir," she gasped. She looked at her hand. It was unharmed, but still throbbing, and it hurt to flex it.

"Hey, blue buddy, you can let me down now," Link called up, pushing against Bob. The blob loosened his grip, and let Link drop to the floor. "That's better! I felt like a baby being carried! I could have handled those beams on my own, you know," he groused.

"I know you could," Susan said quietly. "I didn't exactly intend to do this, remember."

"Yeah, I guess not," Link admitted. "Sorry. You did good, kid."

"This way, Major!" Monger called, flying out another tall passage.

Susan moaned. She just wanted to lie flat, not moving, for several hours at the very least. Preferably several days. Ideally on a tropical beach somewhere. But she slowly got to her feet, feeling pain shoot through her entire body, and limped out, following the general.

"Enjoying the ride, Mr Obanana?" Bob asked happily, his eye migrating around and emerging near the president.

"It's quite a unique experience, I must say," Obama said with a lopsided grin. "General! Where are we headed?"

"Back to Air Force One, sir," Monger told him. "The rest of the captives are still on board, we think."

"The air crew and the rest of my Secret Service detail," Obama noted. "Hope they're all right. Do you know the way?"

"Cockroach used its transponder signal to locate it roughly," Monger said. "The aliens have now blocked the signal, but he already managed to send up directions to my phone. It's that way!" he finished, pointing to the left.

The fleeing Earthlings dashed through a doorway, and found themselves in a huge chamber with a large spherical machine in the middle.

"Attention all aliens. Arrest all monsters!" Demogorgonzola's disembodied head ordered. "Monsters are in the cloning bay."

"Cloning bay?" the President asked.

"Gallaxhar's ship had a device for creating clones of him," Cockroach explained. "Looks like this…. Wait! To your left!"

Susan whipped her head around as a squad of ten aliens came in on hoverbikes. "Stay behind me!" she ordered, stepping out to face the aliens.

"Behind _us_," Monger growled, shooting up to hover by her head.

"And us," Link added, stepping out by her feet, Bob following.

"Get the President behind that machine," Monger ordered as the two secret service agents pulled Obama to shelter.

"We're not going to come quietly, you know," Susan said in a low voice. "You'll have to make us!"

One of the aliens raised its weapon and fired. Susan felt an agonizing pain slice through her left leg and dropped to her knees, gasping.

"Eat lead!" Monger whipped out his sidearm and emptied the magazine. The bullets whined through the air, but impacted harmlessly on force fields surrounding each alien, blue ripples radiating out.

"Evidently they eat lead," Bob noted carefully, scratching his non-existent chin.

"Donner and Blitzen!" Monger swore. He drew his knife, and flew towards the nearest as Susan struggled to her feet. She was physically unharmed, but her leg felt as if it had the worst case of pins and needles imaginable, and she was finding it very hard to stand.

"General, watch out!" she yelled, swiping at an alien that was heading towards Monger from the rear. The hoverbike spun out of control, and the alien crashed to the floor. Link was on him immediately, whacking him in the jaw with an uppercut.

"Good work, Link!" Susan called, swaying erratically as she lunged at another. She missed it, and fell over again, landing with a crash on the large spherical piece of alien machinery. It started hissing, lights flashing, and Susan nervously pushed herself away from it in case it was dangerous. The machine opened a large hatch, from which a bright blue-white light shone.

"I'm hit!" Monger yelled. Susan whipped her head around to see his jetpack spitting sparks and smoke, sending him spinning around out of control. Susan lunged for him, but another hit on her back sent her reeling over. Her arm smashed into Monger, throwing him straight towards the strange spherical machine. Before she could recover, he vanished into its brightly-lit innards, and the machine closed up on him.

"General!" Susan screamed, dashing over to the huge device. "We'll get you out! Hang on! How the hell do you open this damn thing?" She hunted for a lever, a knob, anything she could use to get purchase. But the sphere was almost completely smooth, and all she managed to do was break a fingernail. Even the doorway was almost invisible.

"Susan!" Cockroach's voice rang in her ear. "He's still alive! I'm still getting life signs! But the machine must be interfering with them; they're very strange and hard to interpret."

"Smash that thing open, Susan," Link told her.

"But what if I hurt the General?" Susan asked. "No, there must be… there must be something I can use…"

"Major, we need to leave now!" a secret service agent yelled. "Your priority is the President's safety!"

"No, he's in there! We can get him!"

"Susan, we have to go. I'm sorry," Obama told her as a bolt of energy struck Susan in her stomach. She doubled over in agony, biting her lip to keep from screaming as Link grabbed a fallen raygun and blasted the hoverbike.

"Mr… Mr President, I can't leave him!" she gasped.

"You must, Susan. If you honour what he stood for—stands for, you will. Come. You have to get the rest of us to safety."

"Yeah…. You're right, sir," Susan admitted. She bent down and gathered up the President. Then, ignoring another glancing shot to her shoulder, she saluted the silent machine that had trapped Monger.

"General… Thank you, sir. For everything." Then she turned and ran.

* * *

**DR WORDMANGLER'S LECTURE NOTES**: Apologies for the long delay. This chapter and the next one have been extremely hard to get my head around, as they're essentially nothing but action sequences. Which are not my natural way of telling a story. I create stories as conversations and emotions, and you may have noticed I don't describe things that much unless it's germane to the emotions. Secondary characters, for example, are seldom delineated beyond sex, if even that, aside from some names that suggest ethnicity. This is a trick I picked up from JK Rowling, who described a multi-ethnic school in a way that completely erased racial boundaries. Another reason for being sparse with descriptions is so I can have more freedom to change things around in the future. But all this means that it can be hard to visualize action sequences. Which is why this chapter, and the next (as this went long) are so hard to write: not because I don't know where I want to take the characters, but because I'm groping in the dark as to how they get there.

Anyway...

The title comes from Shelley's _Prometheus Unbound_, which Cockroach quoted to Susan a couple of chapters ago.

I originally gave Susan a chilli-flavoured bar, but Ghirardelli has a surprisingly conservative range of flavours. So I changed it to salt.

I mentioned an electric truck way back in the first story, but just in case, I made it clear that Monger's jeep is electric as well. I didn't want him driving around spewing exhaust fumes all over their living room...

The poem from Sapphos is a real poem. There are a number of different translations of those lines, and after deciding that none of them really quite worked for me, I rewrote it a bit - it's still an accurate translation, I feel. Xena fans may recognise this as being the poem Xena gives to Gabrielle, making subtext about as text as possible. In fact I had to tone it down for Cockroach...

"As Moses told Pharaoh: from my cold, dead hands!" is a Charlton Heston joke. He played Moses, and was infamous for saying "from my cold dead hands!" after Columbine.

I really wanted Cockroach to join them, but realistically, there is no way he could.

Any disparaging references to silly cartoons re Susan bouncing up and down in size are entirely deliberate. My feelings about this traversty are well documented on my profile, however. So I won't say anything more about that. Other than I hate hate hate hate it.

One reason for an alien fleet this time, incidentally, is to reflect the situation shown on the movie poster. I've given the flagship five arms just to make it stand out a bit.

Cockroach's roach facts are correct. As is his joke about the atoms.

The M9 is the US Army standard issue sidearm. A SIG Sauer P226 is also commonly used.

The stuff about how Captain Cook kidnapped Pacific island chiefs is correct. It during a similar mission that went wrong that he was killed in Hawaii. Incidentally, his memorial monument there stands on land deeded to the United Kingdom in 1877 and is considered as sovereign non-embassy land owned by the British Embassy in Washington DC.  
In the middle of the American War of Independence, when Britain and the American colonies were fighting everywhere they met, Ben Franklin contacted the American commanders of armed ships and wrote that if they should come in contact with Cook's ship that they should "not consider her an enemy, nor suffer any plunder to be made of the effects contained in her, nor obstruct her immediate return to England by detaining her or sending her into any other part of Europe or to America; but that you treat the said Captain Cook and his people with all civility and kindness, affording them, as common friends to mankind, all the assistance in your power which they may happen to stand in need of."  
Captain Cook: too cool for war.

"...who still think smartphones are a pretty neat idea" is an updating of the famous line in _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_.

"Code: Do Something Violent" is my tip of the hat to _Megamind_. Code: Really Great Movie.

"macronomes" and "quadlingonium" are some examples of the crazy words old cheesy pulp SF loved. These two are taken from the Oz canon: nomes and quadlings. Later, "centichronons" is another example of Cheesy SF Tropes, using made-up words for units. Here it is "centi" and "chronon," so at least makes some sort of sense.

"Code Navajo" refers to the Navajo Code Talkers of WW2: codes based on languages like Navajo were used to ensure that the Japanese would find it almost impossible to break the codes. And in fact they never did.

The name "Demogorgonzola" is taken from Prometheus Unbound again: it is "Demogorgon" there of course, but I have made it a little more cheesy (stealth pun!). It should also be clear which pointy-eared alien-human hybrid "Spocktopus" refers to.

Having to escape across a high chasm to avoid pursuit? Have I seen _Star Wars_? Yes, yes I have. Why do you ask?

(Sometimes I think I prefer writing these explanatory notes to the actual story...)

Again, I apologize for the delay. The next chapter is not too far from completion, so hopefully will be up quicker. Please don't think for a moment that I have abandoned this story-quite the reverse. It is possible that I will need to make some significant changes in this chapter, depending on how the next one goes, and if so, I will add a note at the beginning of the next one. I do not think that is likely however, as I have finally worked out the action beats and what they mean to Susan emotionally.

At this stage there are two more chapters and an epilogue, so probably a bit over 150,000 words total. Not quite the longest MVA story here, but well up there...

[**Posted 12-June-13**]


	30. Susan Catches the Plane

**30. Susan Catches the Plane**

"Stop, we're safe now," someone called, and Susan slowed down gratefully. Her leg and stomach were still throbbing, but the pain was lessening rapidly now. Susan looked around the small chamber, which was barely big enough for her to stand up in, wondering which way they should go.

"Doc? You still with us?" she asked. "We're in a room with three ways out. Any hints? Make 'em quick, please!"

"Ah, let me see, my dear," Cockroach's voice told her. "I'm still trying to make sense of these scans. Can you sit tight for a minute? I'm afraid I, er, no longer have visual contact."

"The general," Link stated, panting slightly. "He had the camera. Yeah."

"I'm sorry for his loss," the President said quietly after Susan let him down to the floor before she sat down, clasping her hands around her knees. "He was a great American."

"He was an even greater man," Susan said quietly, looking at Obama out of the corner of her eyes.

"I don't doubt it, Major," he told her.

"I wish we could have gone back for him… oh, and the secret service agent," Susan said sadly. "Aren't their lives worth as much as anyone's?"

"You mean, why should they die and I live?" he asked, looking directly at her.

"Well, uh, I didn't quite mean it that way, sir…" Susan stammered, suddenly remembering that she was talking to the President of the United States.

"Yes you did," he told her with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry—I'm not remotely offended. Believe me, Major, it's not easy to deal with the guilt of having people willing to take a bullet for you. I have to keep telling myself it's not me they're dying for, it's what I represent; the office. What I am, not who I am. I don't believe I'm better than them, not at all."

Susan glanced over the at the President. "I guess so, sir. I don't think I could live with that, myself."

"There are many different kinds of sacrifice," he told her. "Sometimes it's simpler, easier, just to sacrifice your life. But not all of us have that luxury. Were I to try it, it would negate everything the Presidency stands for, everything our democratic ideals hold sacred. One being that the office is more important than the man. But if I had to die to ensure the office remain, to ensure our democracy stood solid, I wouldn't hesitate for a moment."

Susan looked down at him. "I don't doubt that, sir," she said quietly. There was a brief silence. "Sir, if I might… that is… might I ask you a personal question, about, uh, being President?"

"Of course, Major. What is it you want to know?"

"How do you cope with, you know, always being surrounded by people, and not being able to just like pop out and hit the mall or go for a coffee or something?"

Obama looked at her, and raised an eyebrow. "Ah, I think I understand. And I sympathise. I admit, sometimes I wish I could just, er, pop out for a burger. The only thing you can really do is remember what you have gained is greater than what you have lost. That you can help more people by sacrificing your freedom than you could by just being a single individual. The important thing's the office, as I told you. In your case, your, er, office, so to speak, is your size, your power; your fantastic, unstoppable power. You've helped so many with this power."

"I've also hurt so many—" Susan started to say quietly, but was interrupted by a loud whistle.

"Time to get moving, people!" Link called. "Doc's figured out the right passage!"

"Which is it?"

"Left!" came Cockroach's voice. "That should take you directly to the hangar bay. More or less."

"More or less?" Link asked, his scepticism very apparent.

"More less than more, perhaps," Cockroach admitted. "The data telemetry is very distorted."

"So's your brain," Link shot back. "Okay, let's move before the jellyfish arrive!"

Susan carefully picked up the President, holding him safely in her palm with her thumb over his waist, and hurried after the fish-ape and the others. A few minutes later they arrived in a huge hollow chamber, with multiple levels and great swooping curves.

"Take the… uh, second ramp to the left!" Cockroach called.

The small team hurried across the floor, then Link realised Susan was lagging behind. She was appeared to be staring up into the ceiling. All he could see up there in the gloom was some glints of glass.

"What is it?" he called.

"Nothing," Susan told him. "I'm coming. Sorry, I got a little distracted. That—that machine there, that's what they use to extract the quantonium. It reminded me of… of some pretty bad times."

"Yeah, well, we're going to have worse ones if we don't get the hell outa here," Link reminded her. "Come on! We got a plane to catch!"

"Oooh, are we going to Rome again?" Bob asked. "I loved Rome! It was so romantic! I found my true love there!"

"Who was she this time—a gelato?" Susan joked. "What flavour? Zuppe Inglese?"

"Gregory Peck!" Bob responded, slithering rapidly along the ramp.

"Gregory pecks at what?" Link asked, confused. "What's he on about, Giny?"

"No idea, sorry. You know Bob," Susan replied, and hurried on ahead. She was glad nobody seemed to take Bob's statements too seriously. Her feelings were getting very confused. Or, rather, she was afraid that they weren't confused any more. In fact, she knew they weren't. But she couldn't act on them, however. For both their sakes. There was nothing but heartbreak down that road. They could never be together. It was impossible….

But she didn't have time to give it much thought. The ship shuddered again, and a large piece of machinery weighing several tons smashed down onto the floor directly ahead of them. Susan shoved it aside with her free hand, and they carried on.

* * *

"There's the plane!" Susan called, spotting the blue and white livery of the Presidential jet behind the remains of the Rome excavator robot.

"Come on!" Link shouted up, bounding around the huge digging machine. "Hey! Open up! Earthlings here!"

Susan heard a crackle in her earpiece. "This is Colonel Tim Scott, pilot for Air Force One. Nice to see you guys. How's the President?"

"He's fine, sir," Susan said, following Link around the robot.

"Mother of God, you're huge!" Scott suddenly exclaimed. "I'm sorry, uh, Major. That was way out of line. I apologize."

"That's okay, Colonel," Susan said, smiling reassuringly. "I'm used to it. I mean, I can't mind people being surprised, because, you know…."

"It's surprising," Bob interjected, and Susan laughed.

"Where's General Monger?" Scott asked.

"He… didn't make it," she heard the President reply. Susan felt an ache tear at her heart, and her eyes prickled.

"Damn," Scott responded. "Okay, we have to get out of here. The door's open, but we don't have an access stair. Hold tight: we're getting a rope ladder."

Susan could see the side doorway near the cockpit had been swung open. "Don't worry. This is where I can help."

She held the President carefully on her palm as she bent down, allowing the two men waiting at the entrance to pull him to safety. He turned and saluted her.

"Well done indeed, Major! You have the thanks of a grateful President. And an even more grateful man."

"Just doing my duty, sir," Susan replied with a smile, returning his salute. Then she lifted Link up, and the other two men. Bob stretched himself up, and hoisted himself into the plane.

"Susan, aren't you coming too?" the blue blob asked.

Susan shook her head. "I can't fit," she told him. "Too big."

"We can't leave without you," Bob said, looking confused.

"I'll be fine," Susan assured him. "Look, I, ah, I… I, uh, have an idea. I'll… er, jump out once we're at about a hundred feet, then sprint like hell."

"That's damned risky," Obama noted. "Could you go to the extractor and get small again?"

"Don't worry, sir, I'm a very fast runner," Susan assured him, shuddering at the idea of returning to her small size.

"Hey, Giny, you sure about this?" she heard Link ask.

"Yeah, no worries," she assured him. "I can handle this. I'm a big girl now. And I'm going to stay a big girl."

The ship gave a sudden lurch, dropping swiftly. Susan's heart shot into her mouth, but as quickly as it started, the descent stopped, and she could hear a low, distant whine as the ship's powerful engines struggled to counteract the failing gravity generators.

"We have to go now, sir!" Scott shouted. "Now!"

"I'll be fine, sir," Susan told the others, swinging the door closed.

"Susaaaan!" Bob wailed as the door to Air Force One slammed shut.

"Go! Go and save yourselves! I'll be fine! Somehow…" Susan added under her breath.

"Okay, you just make sure you don't wait too long to jump, Giny," Link told her.

"Don't you worry! I'll see you all back at base!" She saluted, and moved well away from the plane to give it room. A distant explosion rocked the bay, and she staggered. "So long as I don't get seasick," she added nervously.

The ship suddenly lurched and tilted steeply, throwing Susan to the ground.

"Doc, what the hell was that?" she heard Link yell.

"Can't say for sure! The whole ship's slowly tilting around!"

"Help! I can't hold her!" came Scott's voice in Susan's earpiece. "The brakes aren't holding!"

To her horror, Air Force One started rolling down the sloping deck. Susan sat up, her heart in her mouth. With a rush of horror, she realized that the plane was heading straight for the gaping entrance to the hangar bay.

"Powering up engines!" Scott called.

"We don't have enough room to take off!" the co-pilot shouted.

"I know! Just do it! Full reverse thrust!"

"Link? Doc? What's happened?" Susan gasped, struggling to her feet. It wasn't easy when the floor was tilting away from under her.

"Susan, you have to stop the plane before it falls out!" Cockroach shouted in her ear.

"Stop the plane?" Susan gasped. Air Force One was slowly rolling forwards, closer and closer to the opening and the hundreds of feet drop to the desert. "Oh God, no! No!"

Susan started to run along the sloping deck towards the plane. She had to get in front of it before it was too late. Another violent shudder made her miss a step, and she skidded awkwardly on the smooth surface, falling on her side as she tried to stop. She scrambled to right herself, aware that every second counted. The massive plane was gradually gathering speed as it slid down towards her. Susan was terrified. All her instincts were screaming at her to move, to run, to get out of the path of the blue-and-white metal behemoth that was bearing down on her.

"Doc, help!" Susan moaned in terror. "I can't do this! It's too big!"

"You can, Susan. I know you can! You must!"

"It's—it's so big! I'm scared! I'm going to be crushed!"

"It only looks big, my dear!" Cockroach told her. "Remember, it's just a hollow tube, that's all!"

"But with my friends inside it," Susan added. Memories of her failure with the train in Las Vegas were flashing through her mind. This time, a mistake would mean they would all die. She had a sudden memory of Mary berating her for not bracing herself. _Against what, Mary?_ she thought, acutely aware of how smooth the floor was. She stood up on the sloping deck and braced herself as the nose of the huge plane came closer and closer. She could see the tense faces of Colonel Scott and the co-pilot in the cockpit as Scott rammed the powerful General Electric CF6 turbofans into full reverse, hoping against hope to reverse the plane's deadly momentum. The roar of the redirected exhaust was deafening. Susan held out her arms, making sure to keep her joints loose to absorb the impact, and tried not to close her eyes as the front of the huge aircraft smashed straight into her.

She absorbed as much of the impact with her arms and legs as she could, allowing herself to be driven back even as she was almost bent double by the nose of the plane pressing against her body. Her feet scrambled for traction on the smooth metal surface of the hanger bay, but it was no use: the ship was tilting further and further away from horizontal, and with a scream of terror Susan found her legs slipping out from under her.

Desperately clinging to the front of the aircraft, her feet hunting for grip, she slid inexorably towards the great mouth of the hangar bay. Susan glanced behind her. The opening to the hanger bay was just a few dozen feet away, and the Nevada desert was visible thousands of feet below. If she couldn't stop the sliding plane, both she and everyone in the plane would fall to their deaths. Her mind was a white whirl of panic and utter terror. She was going to die; she, Link, Bob, and the President, the others… they were all going to die. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"I'm sorry, Doc, I tried," she whispered.

"Susan, don't say that!" he shouted in her earpiece, his voice high with panic. "You can do this! Don't give in! Not after all you've been through! There's always a way! Always!"

Susan looked around in terror as she and the plane gained speed. She spotted the row of pillars supporting part of the hanger bay upper level, and desperately swung her left foot towards one. She just managed to hook her ankle around a steel pole, but felt the plane slide around and out of her grip. In a blind panic, she scrabbled for hold and found her fingertips closing around the nose landing gear.

Her desperate lunge for the plane meant that her foot lost its hold on the pillar. For an instant her heart felt like it had exploded as pure terror swamped her, but the momentum of the spinning Jumbo was enough to push her closer to the row of pillars, and she just managed to grab the last one, almost right by the door. She clenched her fingers around it, holding on as tightly as she could, while the several hundred tons of Air Force One slid around beneath her, falling halfway out the doorway and almost breaking her grip on the pillar.

Susan could hear yells and shouts in her earpiece, and tried to ignore them. The ship's tilt was now almost completely vertical, and pieces of equipment were falling freely. It shook and shuddered, and she could hear multiple explosions. Debris and unsecured items were raining down. A large object struck Susan hard on the head, before bouncing off and falling straight through the hanger entrance. She gasped in pain, but all her attention was focused on maintaining her grip on both the pillar and the plane.

"Susan! Susan! Are you all right?" came Doc's voice loud in her ear.

"Help!" she shrieked. "What's happening?"

"I have a visual! Looks like the section you're in has completely lost its anti-grav support," Cockroach told her. "The whole ship's turned ninety degrees!"

"No! We're falling!" she shrieked, She could see the desert floor slowly getting closer and closer directly below her, and felt another wave of terror wash over her. Her grip on the smooth pillar was weakening, and she knew it was only a matter of time now before they all either fell out or were flattened by the crashing spacecraft. Or both, she realised.

"Susan!" Link shouted. "The hangar bay door's closing! We'll be caught!"

"Oh my God!" she gasped, glancing up. A massive sheet of metal was slowly sliding down across the gaping maw. In a minute it would slice straight through Air Force One.

"What can I do?" she shrieked. "I can't let go of the plane!"

"Susan, listen to me!" Cockroach called. "You have to lift the plane, pull it back inside!"

"What?" Susan gasped.

"Lift it up, Susan!"

Susan's heart stopped for a moment. She would have to lift a Boeing 747 straight up with just one hand, while desperately hanging onto a metal pillar with the other? "I can't do that! It's too big! I don't have a hope in hell!"

"There's always hope, Susan," came a familiar voice. "Even in hell—I should know…"

"Mary?" Susan looked around, unsure if she were hearing things, but there was no sign of her friend. And why would there be, she realised. She was just hearing things. Her mind was playing tricks on her, like it had when her grandmother died. Mary was dead. And the rest of them would be dead soon if she didn't stop short-changing herself. _You're Ginormica_, she told herself firmly. _You can do this, because no one else can! You're supposed to have the strength of ten thousand women, remember? Well, use it!_

* * *

The President was clinging desperately to his seat and staring out the window at the ground, far below, his face ashen. He was trying to brace himself as Air Force One wobbled unsteadily, hanging vertically, but for some reason not falling. In fact, it seemed to be rising slowly.

"My God! What happened!" he gasped, looking around in confusion. "Are we caught on something?"

"Not on something," Link told him, his voice radiating sheer pride. "By someone. Susan's pulling us up!"

"She's lifting up a Jumbo jet? That's impossible!" Obama cried, then realised it was clearly what was going on. His face paled in awe, tinged with fear. "Just how… how strong is she?" he added in a quiet, shaking voice.

Link gestured to the window. The President glanced out, looking up, and could just see Susan's giant frame, one huge arm reaching down towards the plane.

"Mother of God…" the President breathed, almost unable to believe what his own eyes were showing him.

* * *

Susan tensed her arm muscles and pulled on the huge jet aircraft, slowly bringing it back on board. Her fingers felt as if they were being sliced off, but she was unable to shift them to get a better grip. Working hard, Susan was able to gradually curl her arms, feeling her biceps working, both raising herself up and bringing the plane level with her eyes. This allowed her to get a foot under the main landing gear, taking some of the strain off her hands. She used her foot to bring the plane closer, bringing it completely within the hangar.

"Susan!" Cockroach called. "The other ships are moving towards you. It looks like one or two of them have tractor beams. Yes! They're grabbing the falling mother ship!"

"Can… can they stop it?" Susan grunted, straining with the effort. She felt a shudder go through the gigantic alien vessel.

"They're focusing on your section," Cockroach told her. "I think… yes, wait. They're dragging it back horizontal again!"

As the alien ship slowly righted itself, Air Force One's main landing gear gently contacted the floor again, taking some of the strain off Susan's arms. The tilt gradually grew less, and in a few minutes the ship was roughly horizontal again, and Susan was finally able to slowly let go. She lay on the floor panting from the residual fear, trying to uncurl her cramped fingers and let the blood flow normally again. She felt her head, which was throbbing, and found her fingers were covered in blood from a nasty gash on her scalp. She leaned against the slim pillar, her eyes closed, trying to contain her emotions.

"Susan, that was fantastic!" Cockroach called. "I saw the whole thing on the base monitors! You were incredible!"

"Well done!" the President added. "Now let's get out of here! Susan, don't wait too long to jump—better a broken leg than being dead!"

"I'll leave as soon as I find the General, sir," she assured him.

"Find the General?"

"He's still alive, Mr President! I can't leave him here to die! Not after everything he's done for me!"

"You can't!" Cockroach shouted. "You'll never get there in time, and you can't open the machine anyway! Don't risk it, Susan! He wouldn't want that!"

"I have to try! Besides, I can't fit in the plane anyway. Not this size. I'll… I'll find another way."

"Major!" the President called. "There isn't time! Get back to that other chamber! Get back to the extractor! It's the only way you can save your life!"

"Sir, please, with respect, sir, I can't do that," she told him. "I promised the General I wouldn't regret this decision. Whatever happens, I won't go back to being small. I've got you to the plane. You're safe now. I've done my duty. Now… now I need to save a friend."

"Even if it costs you your life?" Obama asked.

"I have to try, sir," Susan told him, biting her lip.

"But—but the ship's going to hit the ground in a few minutes!" Link called. "You'll be killed!"

"So will you if you don't get going," Susan told him.

"You stay, we stay!" he shouted, suddenly wrenching open the door as the plane taxied. Susan quickly blocked it with her hand just before he could jump out. She could feel him pummelling her palm in frustration.

"Ow!" Susan felt a sharp pain and snatched her hand away. Link was clinging to it, his fangs buried in her middle finger. "What the hell? What was that for?"

Link loosed his grip and dropped nimbly to the floor. He looked up at her, his face furious.

"You are not going to goddamn sideline me again!" he shouted. "Not again! I'm as good as you, I'm as brave as you, and I've known the General for longer than you! This isn't just your fight!"

Susan's brief flash of annoyance passed in an instant, and her face fell. "You're right," she told him. "I'm being selfish again. We're all in this together. One for all and all for one."

"That means me too, right?" Bob called.

"It sure does," Susan grinned. "Come on!"

Another low rumble vibrated through the floor.

"Major, the door!" Scott called. "If it shuts, we'll never get out!"

Susan looked around. To her horror, she saw that the hangar bay door was just a dozen or so feet from closing. She lunged across the floor, grabbing the bottom lip of the door. Trying not to look at the drop to the desert a thousand feet below, she carefully stood up, her feet finding grip in a shallow groove at the bottom, and let the door fall on her shoulders. The weight was immense, and Susan felt her knees start to shake with the strain. She bit her lip and quickly moved her legs closer together, allowing the door to drop a few more feet.

"Get going!" she gasped between clenched teeth as Air Force One taxied back as fast as it could. Susan braced herself, feeling the door being driven into her shoulders. The pain was intense.

"Major! You'll have to hold the door higher!" Scott shouted as the aircraft started turning. "The tail fin's sixty feet high!"

"Can't you fly without it?" Link called.

"Not if the entire rear is ripped off," Scott replied. "Major!"

"Okay people, Strap yourselves in tight!" came the pilot's voice. "We're going to do a combat takeoff!"

"Wombat makeup?" Bob asked, looking confused. "Is it a girl wombat?"

A sudden loud roar distracted him as the four turbofans spooled up instantly to maximum thrust. The din was tremendous, and the entire aircraft was vibrating, almost threatening to shake itself apart, but the plane did not move.

"He's forgotten the brakes!" Bob laughed.

"No he hasn't," Link told him. "They don't have room to accelerate normally, so they're doing a maximum-thrust launch. Hold on to your hat!"

"I don't have a hat!" Bob responded. "Or a head!" he added after a short pause.

Susan closed her eyes, and tried to relax, fight the rising panic that threatened to overwhelm her. She thought back to some of her lessons back in the facility, when a weightlifter had instructed her on ways to lift heavy masses safely. She shifted her feet slightly, feeling the groove underneath them, making sure she was in position. Then she dropped suddenly, extending her arms above her head at the same time. Her arms wobbled a bit from the weight, and she locked her elbows in place. Then, using her powerful thighs and glutes, she was able to slowly push the door up.

Link looked up at Susan, and sighed. With the best will in the world, there were just some things he couldn't even begin to compete with her at. And being very very tall was first among them. But he couldn't resent her for this. She was far taller and stronger than him, and that was just the way it was. He consoled himself with the thought that at least he was faster, more agile; able to take on foes with a speed and degree of finesse that Susan, with her immensely long and heavy limbs, could not hope to match.

"Come on, Susan! You can do it!" he called encouragingly.

A whining shriek came from somewhere as the door motors were forced into reverse, but eventually Susan was able to stand erect once more with the door held high above her head.

"Go!" she gasped, pain shooting through her entire body.

The pilot released the brakes and the aircraft leapt forwards, gaining speed faster and faster. Susan watched it coming, and realised she wasn't holding the door up high enough. The tail wouldn't make it. But she didn't have time to worry—there were only a few seconds to react. Susan bent her legs and then, with a desperate lunge, jumped, pushing the door a few more feet upwards just as the plane shot out of the huge opening. Susan was terrified as she looked behind and saw the plane falling, apparently out of control, before slowly levelling out then climbing steeply. With a sigh of immense relief, she let go of the door, jumping out of the way as it smashed into the floor with a thunderous boom. She collapsed onto the floor, breathing heavily from the adrenalin and fear. Her shoulders and arms felt as if they had been run over a tank, and her legs were like jelly.

Link ran over to her. "Hey, you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm a little bit shaky, that's all," Susan said, smiling weakly. Her heart began to beat more normally again, and her face regained some of its colour. Then she struggled to her feet, staggering slightly. "Okay, let's go get the General," she added, walking unsteadily through the hangar. She could hear a couple of distant explosions, and the ship lurched again, tilting slightly. The three of them made their way back to the cloning chamber without encountering any aliens. They were probably all too busy trying to save the doomed ship, Susan realised. At any rate, they weren't bothering with the monsters, for which she was grateful.

"Susan! Are you okay?"

"Doc?" Susan called. "Is that you? We're fine. Is the President safe? Is the plane safe?"

"They landed a few seconds ago," Cockroach told her. "They had to glide in without power. We've suffered a massive EMP from the ship. The base is hardened against atomic attack, but all our aircraft are grounded. Who's up there with you? Link and Bob?"

"Yeah, they're with me," Susan told him.

"So where are you now?" he asked. "You should be trying to escape!"

"I'm… we're trying to find the General," she told him, doing her best not to let him hear how scared she was. "You said he was still alive, remember?"

"But I can't be certain," Cockroach reminded her. "The readings were very strange. Some indicated he was alive, true…. But I'm getting massive amounts of interference, and it's getting worse. Susan, I'm going to have to take the system offline to—"

With a deafening roar, the ship lurched wildly. Susan found herself being thrown across the chamber they were in, and hit the far wall with a heavy crash.

"Ow," she moaned, rubbing the back of her head. "Next time I think I'll wear a helmet…"

"Doc?" Link called into his own headset. "You there?" There was no response. He looked up at Susan and grinned. "Guess the system's got a bug in it…. Get it?"

"Oh ha ha," she shot back. "Come on, we don't have much time."

A few minutes later they arrived back in the cloning chamber. The machine was still there, and still shut up tight.

"Great. Now what?" Link asked.

Susan spotted a large piece of equipment by the wall, and ripped off a heavy steel beam about twenty feet long. "The time for delicacy is over," she announced. "We're going to do this the Ginormica way!"

Trying to keep her balance as the ship lurched, she approached the machine and smashed the beam into its side as hard as she could. The beam bent double in her hands, the vibrations painfully numbing, but to her relief she could now see the door edge clearly. It still wouldn't open, however. Susan threw the bar away in frustration, smashing a hole in the chamber wall.

"Let! Him! Out!" she screamed in desperation, thumping the unyielding metal.

Suddenly, with a heavy crunch and a loud grinding noise, the panel she was pounding on slid open. Susan saw a pair of glowing red lights shining out of the darkness inside.

"It's the General!" she shouted in relief. "I can see his jetpack! General! Can you move?"

The red lights came closer, and Monger emerged from the machine. Susan screamed in shock. It was not the lights of his jetpack that were glowing. It was his eyes….

"Ge—general?" Susan stammered, not sure what she was looking at. It was clearly Monger, but there was something very different about him. "Oh thank goodness! It's really you!" she cried, relieved to see he was still alive. Or sort of. "Uh, it is really you, right? Are you one of those half-person, half-machine…you know, whatever you call those things…" Susan trailed off nervously.

"A cyborg."

"Oh no! You're a cyborg?" Susan shrieked in horror.

"Major, I assure you, I am a cyborg, but I am still General W. R. Monger," he announced. "The new and improved model! And so you will stop shrieking and carry on with your duty!"

Susan's eyes opened wide as she stared in disbelief at the new and improved Monger. His face appeared normal, apart from the eyes, but his arms seemed to be fused with the controls for his jetpack; he was half machine, half man, with mechanical arms and a semi-mechanical torso, out of which his jetpack burners projected. Then she realised that he was right, and she had to focus. Whatever had happened to him, he was still the general and her commanding officer. A few morphological changes did not alter that.

"Of course, sir," she told him, saluting. "What are your orders?"

"Bring me up to speed. What's the situation with the President?"

"Safe on the ground, sir."

"Good. What about this ship?"

"Fifteen minutes away from crashing."

"Not good."

"No, not good at all," Link added. "So we need to get out of here."

"Right, team—" Monger started to say.

"Susan!" Cockroach's voice came through her earpiece suddenly. "I'm getting a signal again!"

"Hey Doc!" she said, glad to hear his voice again. "We found the General! He's… ah, he's…"

"He's a monster!" Bob said cheerfully.

"A what?" Cockroach gasped.

"Yeah, I'm a cyborg, thanks to these damned jelly-heads," Monger growled.

"Good Heavens!" Cockroach exclaimed. "Uh, are you all right, General?"

"Well, that's the funny thing," Monger told him. "I feel great. My knees no longer hurt, for a start."

"Ah, good…. I think. Uh… General, are you… that's odd. Fascinating. I seem to be receiving telemetry directly from you, General. It would appear you now consist of some alien technology as well, due to your, uh, reconfiguration."

"Alien? I'm an alien?" Monger asked, sounding very annoyed.

"Well, only part alien," Cockroach assured him. "You're still mostly human. I mean, er, mostly terrestrial, at least."

"Sure makes me glad I insisted the army buy 'Made in USA' jetpacks," Monger quipped. "Doc, you getting any useful info? What about them aliens? We ain't seeing them around much—they all hiding?"

"It seems that most of them have been taken off the ship at this stage," Cockroach told them. "Save for the bridge crew."

"Why not them?" Susan asked, crouching down.

"Captain always goes down with his ship," Monger told her.

"It's more likely they're trying to find out how to counteract the virus," Cockroach suggested.

"Why bother?" Link asked. "Cut your losses and run, I say."

"Ah. I see. Yes… Oh dear…" Cockroach muttered. "I think I see the problem…."

"What you talking 'bout?" Monger demanded.

"Well, you see, it seems I made a very slight miscalculation with the cascade virus, and it's affected the power systems throughout the ship. The central power core area is reading extremely high levels—I'm guessing the ship flipping on its side has thrown the whole assembly askew."

"So why's this a problem?" Link growled.

"The ship's going to crash soon, and when it does, the power core will explode, taking out everything within a half-mile radius."

"So?" Monger shot. "The base is hardened against nuclear missile attack."

"No, you don't understand," Cockroach told him. "I mean it'll take out everything. A sphere about one mile in diameter will literally cease to exist."

"Well, that really burns my biscuits," Monger snarled. "Damn aliens and their lack of environmental regulations!"

"Yes, and it looks as if the aliens are trying to shut down or fix the reactor core, but can't."

"I'm guessing this is not a good thing," Susan said nervously. "How long until they fix the problem?"

"Slightly longer time than it will take the ship to impact on the base," Cockroach suggested.

"Definitely not a good thing," Susan muttered. "Anything we can do?"

"Give me a moment to filter these readings," Cockroach told her. "Hm. It looks like the reactor is supposed to be filled with water, but isn't any more. There should be a reserve supply, but for some reason it's not filling. Maybe something's blocking it."

"And if we fix that, the ship won't crash?" Link asked.

"No, it'll still crash, but we might save the people in the base," Cockroach explained.

"What about… what about us?" Susan asked, her heart in her mouth. "What if we're still in the ship when it hits?"

"We do what we have to, Major," Monger told her firmly. "The first priority is saving the lives of the people underneath us. Ours but to do and die."

"One for all and all for one!" Link added.

"That's the monster spirit! I wish I was there with you!" came Cockroach's voice.

"You are," Link said with a grin. "In spirit…."

"He's a ghost?" Bob gasped, looking around. The others ignored him.

"Right, Team Monster! Move on out!" Monger called.

"We go fast, we go strong, we go big!" Susan cried, standing to her full nearly fifty-foot height.

.

* * *

**WORD-M'S NOTES**: Once again, I have ended up having to split a chapter, as it was running long (over 9,000 words). This section is about 5,000 words, and since my chapter lengths have been sneaking up lately, I need to be a little more strict. Also, I am still working on the second part of this action sequence, and don't want too much of a delay. Action, as I have mentioned before, is really hard for me. I think one reason is because of how I see the character of Susan: her story is about how her size and strength affect her, not about her size and strength per se.

Anyway, are there any facts behind the fiction in this chapter worth noting? Not really...

The current chief pilot for Air Force One (which actually, technically, is any AF plane carrying the President) is Colonel Scott Turner, so I have changed that to Colonel Tim Scott.

I have confirmed that the Boeing 747 VC-25s commonly referred to as "Air Force One" use General Electric CF6 turbofans.

The whole bit about pulling up AF1 came about as I was always on about how Susan could lift a 747, so decided to give her the chance to do so.

And the bit at the end with Monger was something I was wanting to do for a while-I thought it would be cute if Susan's initial confusion in the movie was referenced and this time she was right. Also I think there's some sort of poetic justice in turning the warden of the monsters into a monster himself...

Susan's last line is from the Nickelodious series. Which I watch with a sort of disgusted fascination to see just how horribly bad it is. And also because I still like to see Ginormica in action, which happens for about ten seconds every other story and god I hate hate hate the new BOB. And the writers of this show. Just so you know, I will NEVER reference it as canon.

[**posted 23 June 2013**]


	31. Team Monster's Triumph

**31. Team Monster's Triumph**

"Down that way!" Monger called, flying ahead of them along a spacious purple-blue tunnel.

"How the hell do you know?" Link asked as he ran along.

"New and improved version, remember!" Monger tapped the side of his head. "Getting direct telemetry from the Doc, plus some gobbledegook from the aliens!"

"General!" Susan shouted. "Aliens!"

"Exactly!"

"No, ahead of us!"

The Monster Force skidded to a stop outside a large door. There were half a dozen aliens outside it, busy using what appeared to be computer interfaces. As the earthlings arrived, the aliens spun around, and two of them drew weapons.

"Halt! You must leave now!" one alien called. "You have ten centichronons to reach minimum safe distance!"

"The reactor's going to blow!" Monger shouted.

"We are aware of the situation and are attempting to correct it," the alien responded. "For your safety, you must leave."

"We're here to help," Susan told them. "Doc reckons it can be fixed. So open the door and let us in."

"Impossible. The door is automatically sealed when the reactor nears critical. There are no over-rides. It cannot be opened."

"Ginormica," Monger said quietly. "Explain to them why they're wrong."

"Sir!" Susan saluted. She got her fingers around the edge and heaved. After an initial resistance, the metal of the door gave way to her immense strength, peeling back like a sardine tin lid. The aliens looked on in shock and terror.

"Are you insane! You'll flood the entire area with delta radiation!" one cried as the others retreated rapidly.

"Uh, is this safe?" Susan asked anxiously, looking at the General.

"For brief exposures, yes," came Cockroach's reassuring tones. "Just don't try and holiday there."

"No, I think I'd prefer Tahiti," Susan joked back, trying to calm her nerves.

"You're fine, remember. Link's the most vulnerable," Cockroach replied. "I'm not sure about the General any more. But… don't be more than about fifteen minutes."

"Because we'll get too much radiation?" Link asked, looking a little pale.

"Well, that and because at its present rate of descent, the ship will be crashing into the desert around then."

"In that case, we better hurry!" Monger called. "Ginormica, let's go!"

Susan ripped the door right off and ducked inside, followed by the others. She found herself on a narrow catwalk that circled a massive round chamber, a titanic cylinder filled with about eight feet of water at the bottom. Huge clusters of crystal rods and columns rose up out of the water, like translucent glass skyscrapers in a model city, getting taller and taller the closer they got to the centre. A gigantic metal cone, gold and bronze in colour, projected down from the ceiling, several hundred feet above her. The room was filled with a thin mist, blurring the outlines of everything. The entire pool was bathed in a eerily beautiful blue glow that came from the base of each column cluster. Every few seconds, great bolts of yellow light stabbed through the pool, connecting each of the major column clusters. The chamber was filled with what looked to her like a miniature thunderstorm, with bolts of electricity from the cone snapping and sparking through the air, and she could smell ozone.

A streamer of electricity suddenly struck her hair, setting part of it on fire. Susan screamed and batted it desperately, managing to extinguish the flames before too much damage was done. She could smell the acrid stink of burned hair.

"You okay, Ginormica?" Monger asked.

"No! Let's just get this over with!" she shouted. "Come on!"

"Hold yer horses, Major! Let me sort through the data," Monger ordered. His eyes turned green, flickering on and off. "Doc, you getting this?"

"Loud and clear," Cockroach replied. "Well, clear at any rate. Okay, there should be… General, could you look down and to your left? Thanks. Susan, do you see those two big pillars?"

"The ones that look like they're supporting that big container thingy that's sticking out from the wall?" Susan asked.

"Precisely. Based on what I can tell via the General's enhanced information, this chamber should be filled with about fifty feet of water, but most of it drained out when the ship tipped on its side. That container is the access to the reserve supply, but the pillar support mechanism has malfunctioned. They need to be out of the way to allow the hatch to open."

"So… so I just knock the pillars out?" Susan asked.

"It's not as simple as that," Cockroach explained.

"It never is," she sighed.

"We can do this, Susan, don't worry," he assured her. "General, you can fly so I suggest you adjust the orientation of the primary power coupling on the collection cone. Link, since you can breathe underwater, you'll have to reinsert the cluster relays which fell out. That has to be done before the water has been replaced, which is your job, Susan. You have to shift the pillars. Bob, you'll assist Link and Susan."

"Everyone got that?" Monger asked. "Right, let's do this!"

"Be careful, sir!" Susan called. "Don't get zapped by the lightning!"

"Don't worry, I'm electrically insulated. Get going!"

Monger flew up to the base of the inverted cone, and started fiddling with it. Susan scooped up Link and looked down at the floor level. It was about a hundred feet below her.

"Hang on," she told him, and lowered herself off the side of the catwalk before dropping the rest of the way and landing with a splash. The water came up to her shins, almost to her knees, and was surprisingly warm. Almost hot, in fact.

"Right, let's get this thing done," Link told her, jumping off into the pool. He dove underwater, and Susan could make him out zipping towards the nearest crystal cluster as a black silhouette outlined against the ethereal blue glow of the water. It really was very beautiful, she decided, looking around. On all sides rose tall multi-sided translucent crystals, the highest being taller that she was. They were arranged in what looked like a spiral pattern, gradually increasing in height as they got closer to the centre, directly under the massive cone. While the predominant colour was blue, deep inside the crystal pillars she could make out flickering shades of purple and green and amber, and even a deep pulsating red. It was almost mesmerizing in its alien beauty. Nervously, she reached out and touched one of the crystals.

"Ow!" she gasped, snatching back her hand.

"What happened?" came Cockroach's voice.

"That hurts! I got zapped by the crystal!"

"There's massive amounts of energy being generated by those things, Susan," Cockroach warned her. "And watch out for the energy beams! Don't stand directly between two power columns!"

"I'll be careful," Susan told him, taking a nervous step back and looking around to make sure she wasn't in the line of fire. She became aware of a growing sound, a high, soft, musical sound made of dozens, or perhaps hundreds, of different notes, all fading in and out with perfect precision. It was getting louder, surrounding her, and Susan found it hypnotic.

"What is that music?" she whispered.

"A by-product of the energies produced by the reactor," Cockroach told her. "It appears that, as the clusters are connected, the sound lowers into the range of human hearing."

"This has got to be the most beautiful engine ever produced," Susan said, turning slowly and looking at the towering, faceted crystal shafts that surrounded her. In many of them the blue had largely been supplanted by a red glow, and Susan guessed that those were the ones that Link had finished connecting up.

"Don't just stand there gawping, Ginormica," came Monger's voice. "Get in position!"

"Sorry, sir!"

Susan waded through the water to the base of the two pillars, which this close up looked even thicker. Each massive shaft was ten feet thick, and solidly built. They soared up to the height of the level the monsters had arrived at, about a hundred feet from the floor.

"Why are they so thick?" she asked.

"General, can I get a visual?" Cockroach asked. "Thanks. Susan, they have to support hundreds of tons of water. The total weight of water for the pool, given a diameter of a thousand feet and depth of fifty feet, would be almost three hundred thousand metric tons. This short section appears to act as a supplementary feeder, with the rest of the water contained… uh, nearby. Not sure where."

"Less talk, Cockroach," Monger growled. "Link's just about finished. Ginormica, shift those pillars!"

"Sir!"

Susan grabbed one, and tried to move it. Not to her surprise, it didn't budge. She aimed a kick at it, and was just about to let fly when she heard Cockroach's voice.

"Susan, both have to be taken down at the same time, or else the reserve water access hatch will buckle and not open properly!"

"How?" Susan asked. "Oh, wait, I have an idea."

She stepped between the two pillars, and placed one hand on each. She pushed as hard as she could, straining with the effort. Nothing happened.

"What gives, Giny?" Link called. "Come on! Push!"

"I'm trying!" she grunted, pressing outwards with all her strength.

"Put your back into it!" she heard Monger call.

"Yeah, put your back on it!" Bob repeated.

Susan glanced over at him, and smiled. "Great idea! Thanks, Bob!"

She shifted position, pressing her back against one pillar, and then walked her feet up the other, bracing herself with her arms. Then she took a deep breath, and slowly straightened her legs.

Link felt a shiver run up his dorsal fin. He was pretty much used to Susan's incredible strength by now, but every so often she could still awe him. And seeing those thick metal pillars slowly give way as Susan's long, powerful thighs gradually extended filled him with a strange mixture of fear, pride, and love. _By all the gods, she is amazing_, he thought. _Look at her! Look at those legs!_

"Come on Susan! You can do it!" he yelled.

"Go go Susie!" Bob added, dancing happily. "Give me an S! Give me an O! Give me an O! Give me a Z! Give me a 6! Give me some cake!"

Susan felt as if her thighs were on fire, and her back was throbbing in pain, but she had to succeed. She had to. Or else all their work would be for naught, and everyone she loved would die. She might be able to jump and run, and be safe when the core exploded, but her family, Amy, everyone sheltering in the base… they would all die. Because of her. Because she was too weak. No. She was not weak. She was strong. Strong. She would, could do this. She had to.

The pillars groaned and shook, the stresses building up, causing the thick metal to buckle. With a scream of agony, she pushed down on her thighs, pressing them down straight in one final thrust. With a noise like an exploding bomb, one completed snapped off, and Susan fell to the floor with a splash, panting, where she curled up in a ball, hugging her aching legs.

"It's clear!" came Monger's voice. "Bob, open the hatch!"

Bob wrapped himself around the remaining pillar, which was now leaning out at an angle, and slithered up and across to the container. He climbed on the front, and tried to open the hatch.

"It's not moving!" he called.

"Damn!" Monger swore. "You have to get it open somehow!"

"How?"

"I don't know! Hit it! Swear at it! Eat it!"

"Ooh, that's a good idea! I'm hungry!" Bob replied.

"Bob, no!" Susan called, slowly getting to her feet.

"No, wait, let him!" Link told her. "He's… he's dissolving the metal! Eating right through it!"

"And it don't taste that good either!" Bob replied. "Urgh. Can I stop now?"

"No, no! Bob, keep going! You have to ! Look, when we get back, I'll bake you a cake, I promise!"

"What flavour?" he asked.

"What's your favourite?" Susan asked back as she slowly rubbed her thighs, which were still aching from the effort.

"Blue!"

Susan laughed. "Blue it is!"

"Ginormica, Link! Get out of the way!" came Monger's sudden roar. Susan looked up and barely had to time duck before a titanic deluge swamped her. The weight of the water slammed her painfully into the floor, pushing her along. She grabbed a crystal power cluster and fought the onrush, scrambling to her feet.

"Help!" came Link's voice.

Susan looked around rapidly. Link was being rapidly swept away by the flood, heading straight for the central pillar, which was surrounded by bright yellow bolts of energy. Susan lunged desperately, just managing to catch him by the arm, then let her nearly twelve-ton weight anchor them both as the torrent flowed around her, cascading up her chest. She was able to slowly, carefully, move forwards through the deepening pool, away from the dangerous energy bolts.

"It's getting too deep!" she shouted as the water foamed up over her breasts. She felt herself being lifted up and washed away, towards the dangerous central pillar. "Help! I can't grip the bottom!"

"What? You weigh nearly twelve tons!" Monger said in surprise.

"Thanks for reminding me! Now tell the flood that!" Susan started to panic as she was washed inexorably closer to the lethal power unit. "Help!" she shrieked again, desperately kicking. But it was no use: she could not fight the current.

"Bob! Grab her!" shouted the blue blob as Susan realised a thick rope had wrapped around her arm.

"Thanks, Glub!" Susan coughed as she pulled herself hand over hand, fighting to breathe amidst the swirling water. Bob had anchored himself to the side wall, the rest of his gelatinous body wrapped around a pillar. Susan grabbed it with relief, and held tight as the waters slowly stopped swirling. Breathing heavily, she rested briefly as she looked around, getting her bearings. Monger flew over, hovering by her head.

"Up, Major! We don't have much time! Doc reckons we'll be close enough for you to jump in about five minutes. And if you don't, in about ten minutes we'll be flattened by the crashing ship!"

"Great motivational speech, sir!" Susan said. She looked up. The next beam was just out of her reach. "Bob, Link, hang onto me!"

"Hanging on!" Link called.

Susan crouched and jumped, catching the beam with her fingertips, and used her strength to haul herself up. Another similar jump found her standing on the perimeter ledge, and then she headed out the door as quickly as she could.

"You did it Susan!" came Cockroach's voice in her ear.

"We did it, you mean," Susan replied. "I couldn't have done this without you all."

"That's what a team is," Monger told her. "None of us is as good as all of us."

"Yeah…." Susan agreed quietly. Then the ship lurched again, and she felt it drop briefly.

"What was that?" Link asked. "We've fixed the reactor. It's not going to blow. Why is the ship still falling?"

"The damage was too extensive," Cockroach told them. "The gravity repulsors are still faulty, But now the reactor won't explode when it crashes. You've saved everyone in the base!"

"But what about the people up here?" Susan asked. "I mean, the aliens?"

"Nothing we can do about them," Monger told her. "Okay, time to make tracks. Cockroach, plot us the fastest escape route from this oversized tin can!"

"But, but—but we can't just leave people here!" Susan exclaimed. "Why haven't they left? Are they still trying to fix your virus?"

"Possibly," Cockroach admitted. "But in this case it seems that damage from an explosion has stranded them up there. The main access shaft has been blocked."

"We have to rescue them!" Susan cried, looking worried.

"It's too dangerous!" Monger told her.

"Sir, we have to try! We have to! If you won't, I will!"

"Yeah, I'm with Giny. I mean, how's it gonna look to the other ships if we run out and let their guys snuff it?" Link asked.

"You have a point," the cyborg general admitted. "A show of good faith, you mean?"

"Well, yes, and these aren't really evil people," Susan reminded him. "They're the guys after Gallaxhar. The enemy of our enemy is our friend, right?"

"So we should be friends!" Bob exclaimed. "Yay! New buds!"

Susan laughed. "You're right, Bob. Let's go and help our buds."

Monger rolled his eyes. "Oh very well," he growled. "Okay, if we're going to do this damn fool thing, we're going to do it right."

"Yes, sir!" Susan said with a huge grin. "I'm so glad you're all here to help!"

"Yeah, I might regret this later, when we're all plummeting to our fiery deaths," Link noted. "But for now… yeah, we stick together, 'coz that's what monsters do."

"That's what friends do!" Bob added.

Susan smiled sadly. "Yeah, that's what friends do. I forgot that for a while, but not any more…."

* * *

The monsters moved rapidly through the cavernous ship interior. There was very little time left, a fact which Monger kept reminding them.

"We know, General," Susan sighed when he had told them to move faster for the tenth time. "It's just not easy right now."

"Damn right it ain't," Link agreed, jumping over a piece of machinery that had fallen to the ground. Parts of the ship interior, never designed for these stresses, were collapsing, unable to support the weight of the massive vessel.

"Just get to the bridge," Cockroach told them. "I'm in contact with the General: he can direct you!"

"Doc, if we have to jump, can you get a chopper up for the others?" Susan asked.

"I'm sorry, Susan, the EMP ruined all the ones on the surface, and it'll take half an hour to prep and fuel the underground ones. You'll have to wait until you're closer."

"We might not have that luxury," Monger interjected. "Not at the rate the ship is falling apart."

Another massive explosion shook the spacecraft, and huge chunks of metal rained down on her. Terrified, Susan covered her head and ran, trying to dodge as many as possible. She also had to keep an eye out for Link and Monger, who were more vulnerable than Bob. More than once she had to quickly smash aside a collapsing beam or wall when they weren't quite quick enough.

Eventually the monsters burst through a large door, and found themselves in a huge airy chamber, with numerous beams and machines, all arranged around a great central console area. The entire chamber was topped by a massive transparent dome.

"You! What are you doing here?" Demogorgonzola shouted, desperately manipulating a work station with three of his tentacles. With a fourth, he aimed a raygun at Susan, who held up her hands.

"Don't shoot! we're here to rescue you!"

"Rescue? Why?"

"It's our fault this happened. We destroyed your computer, wrecked your ship."

"On a foolish, pride-filled mission to regain your leader," the alien noted angrily. "And now you have doomed us all."

"Maybe. But our leader is safe."

Demogorgonzola snorted in disgust. "You are just primitive savages, after all, conditioned to sacrifice your lives for your leader! No man is worth more than any other!"

"No man is worth that, you're right," Susan agreed. "But the office is worth that. Because that represents our system of government, which represents our values and lifestyles, and thus every one of the people living under the shadow of your floating machines of death!"

Demogorgonzola raised an eyebrow. "Wow. You really get profound."

"You'll find we're full of surprises," Susan said, breathing heavily from the adrenalin rush.

"We don't have time to debate the issue," Monger snarled. "We're leaving! Now!"

"You cannot leave here any more than we can," Demogorgonzola told the general as the ship shook again. A chunk of metal landed a few feet away from him. "We have fourteen millichronons before the bridge explodes," Demogorgonzola told her. There is no escape. The bridge escape pod has malfunctioned, and there is no longer any access to the others. We shall all die here, together. So what can you do? Your brute power approach has doomed us all."

"Look up," Monger told him. Arching an eyebrow, the alien commander did so. All four of his eyes opened wide as he saw Susan standing above him, holding up a large piece of machinery. "That's our brute power," Monger added.

"This bit nearly hit you," Susan noted with a smile, tossing it to one side. It smashed onto the floor, making a large hole. "Now are we going, or what?"

"Commander, I would suggest we agree to their offer," another alien said.

"Very well. I consider the entire concept of saving the leader as he is the leader to be quite barbaric, but I shall allow you to rescue me as a person."

"Most generous," Monger growled. "Okay monsters, let's blow this joint!"

Bob started to inflate himself, and Link clapped him on the back, expelling the air. "Not that sort of blow," he grinned.

"Not if I can help it," Susan said quietly. She grabbed a piece of wreckage and hurled it at the transparent dome, shattering a large hole in it.

"What the flagnar?"

Susan bent down to the alien commander. "Come with me if you want to live," she told him, scooping him up before he had a chance to move. She scooped up as many of the others as she could grab, then an explosion shook the bridge and the rest promptly used their tentacles to grab onto her body. Bob wrapped himself around Link and attached himself to her shoulder as Monger flew up to join her.

"Hurry, Susan!" Link shouted as the giantess raced to the gigantic glass done. A few seconds before she reached the hole she had made, a massive explosion tore the entire bridge apart, and Susan found herself being tossed into the air. She barely managed to duck her head in time as she was thrown straight through the dome by the force of the explosion, tumbling and then landing with a crash on the outer skin. She found herself sliding down around the great upper dome of the ship, heading straight for the ground. One massive projecting arm was just a dozen feet away, so Susan desperately used her feet to kick herself off small projections, trying to change the direction of her barely-controlled fall. She barely managed to scramble to the arm, kicking herself upright and jumping, landing heavily.

An explosion just behind her jolted the ship. Susan wheeled and barely managed to retain her footing, then started to fun along the top of the projecting arm, doing her best to stay ahead of the series of explosions that were erupting along the top of the arm, each one threatening to blow her off balance. Her heart was beating faster than she could remember it ever having done before, and her body was flooded with adrenalin.

"Ginormica, what's your plan?" Monger asked.

"No plan, sir! It's time for a leap of faith!"

"We're still too high up!" Link shouted. "You'll never make it!"

"If we stay we'll be blown up!" Susan shouted as a section of the arm was blasted apart. She jumped over the fireball, and kept running, trying to keep her balance on the curving metal as the ship swayed erratically. There was no plan—there could be no plan. Staying meant certain death. Jumping meant… _well_, she decided,_ it's time to see just how strong my bones are_. So long as the others were protected. That was her job. To protect those weaker than her. Which meant everyone, now….

With a cry of defiance, she mounted the final bulbous tip and leapt off into space just as the arm broke off, the great bare desert filling her vision. She wanted to shut her eyes, but found herself unable to look away as she gained speed. Susan tucked herself into a ball, sheltering the aliens and her friends, and prepared for pain worse than any she had ever known as she smashed into the hard, unyielding desert floor.

Instead, she bounced. Twice, then found herself resting on some warm soft surface. Confused, she straightened out, then cried out in sheer joy, dropping the aliens.

"Insecto!"

"Susan!"

Susan twisted around at the familiar voice. Cockroach was sitting atop Insectosaurus's head, his wheelchair strapped on tight with ropes and duct tape.

"Doc? How?"

"An EMP doesn't affect Insecto, remember?" he told her. "I've been circling for the past five minutes, waiting for you to jump. Hoping you would jump," he added.

"Don't worry, Doc," Susan reassured him. "We weren't going to hang about. I am in no hurry to die."

"Doc, get us as far away from the ship as possible before it hits the ground," Monger ordered.

"Insecto, full speed!" Cockroach called. There was a sudden blast of wind that nearly knocked Susan backwards as the giant insect leapt ahead, its huge wings accelerating it rapidly.

"Woah, you're fast, girl!" Link cried happily. "Always knew ya had it in yer! 'Specially when your pals' lives at stake!"

Susan looked back as the massive moth flew low and fast across the desert. The titanic ship was once again hanging vertically, and as she watched, one of the projecting arms impacted the desert, then another. The entire ship started to fall apart, wracked by a series of small explosions, and then there was a blinding, noiseless flash.

"Brace!" Cockroach yelled.

Susan grabbed handfuls of Insectosaurus's fur as the shockwave hit, quickly followed by a rumbling explosion of sound so loud it was like being physically hit, washing over her, penetrating her to the core. It was over as soon as it started, and Susan looked back to see the smouldering ruin of the massive ship lying at a steep angle on the ground. At Cockroach's guidance, Insectosaurus turned and headed back towards the crash site.

"Well, looks like the base is still there," Link commented.

"We did it, team! We saved them all!" Susan cried happily.

"Not so fast, Major," Monger told her, his cyborg hand to his ear. "The base may still be there, but it's just had a massively heavy spaceship drop on it. I'm getting reports of cave-ins all over, especially at the higher residential and office levels."

"Oh. Oh dear. I hope my parents are safe," Susan said nervously.

"Numerous casualties, but thankfully no actual deaths reported," Monger reported. "The area was largely evacuated prior to the crash, so no civilian casualties."

"Thank God," Susan sighed, settling back into Insectosaurus's long, soft fur.

The giant moth came in for a gentle landing near the shallow crater left by the crashed ship, and Susan slid down her wing to the ground. She was followed by the other monsters, then, more slowly, by the aliens she had rescued, who immediately retreated to a safe distance.

"I have never been so glad to be on land again!" she gasped with feeling. "There were a couple of times back there I thought… well…"

"Yeah, like when you jumped from the ship?" Link asked. "That was some crazy stuff!"

"Yeah, well, I didn't have a lot of choice," Susan reminded him. "We'd all have died if I'd stayed." She looked up at the wreck of the massive alien craft, towering high above her, and shuddered. Then she turned back to the floating cyborg. "General, shouldn't we be helping rescue the people in the base? I could help with the heavy lifting."

"Don't worry about it—we have crews down there working on it," Monger told her. "We don't need you to be a crane. That's no job for a hero."

"Besides, the worst-affected areas are too small for you anyway," Cockroach called down. "Now, if someone could untie me from Insecto, I would be most grateful. Unfortunately I did not have time to ensure I could get unstuck, once I got stuck."

Laughing, Susan mounted Insecto again and carefully peeled back the tape, then snapped the ropes. She lifted up the insect-headed man, wheelchair and all, and carried him carefully in her hands, back to the ground.

"Are you okay?" she asked, gently setting him down.

"Nothing that a bit of medical care won't cure, my dear," he replied, smiling up at the giantess.

"I'll get you that right away!" she said, and was about to leap to her feet when he stopped her.

"Wait, not yet. Let the injured take priority."

Susan's face fell. "Of course. I was being selfish."

"Not at all. You were just being a bit eager. Nothing wrong with that. You're so…. Uh, Susan, look behind you…"

Susan glanced behind her, then looked up in the sky. One of the other ships was hovering silently, low above them. It disgorged a large shuttle, which flew down and landed near the assembled monsters. Several aliens emerged, and one came up to Susan and her friends.

"I am Xalthazar, of the Panthalassa Security Force. Greetings."

"You!" Susan gasped. "What do you want? You're not taking my quantonium!"

"Commander Demogorgonzola demands to speak with your leader immediately," Xalthazar told Monger.

"He's over there," the general replied, pointing to where the President was walking rapidly towards them, surrounded by more than fifty armed men, with five APCs bringing up the rear.

"Good. We have much to discuss," the alien commander said.

"Yes, I imagine we do," Obama replied as he came up to them. "This has not been the most propitious of first contacts. Or second contacts, rather."

"Not counting Gallaxhar," Cockroach interjected.

"No indeed. You have attacked us once again," Demogorgonzola noted coldly.

"To defend ourselves, you amoral bastards!" Link shot back angrily.

"We are a peaceful people," the President said as Cockroach quietly explained to Link the importance of shutting up during summit meetings.

"Yet your people killed our survey team, unprovoked," Demogorgonzola responded.

"An unfortunate mistake," Obama admitted. "But that was a long time ago. We've changed."

"By sending a squad to infiltrate our ship, cripple our systems, and attack our people?"

"Well…. Well, we were scared," Susan told the alien. "And we haven't attacked anyone! Only in self-defence!"

"And we do apologize for the inconvenience. We had no intention of, er, crashing your flagship," Obama explained. "And we apologize for the deaths we caused so many years ago."

"You have already attempted to apologize for the deaths of our survey crew," Demogorgonzola told the President. "But we cannot accept your apology. You did not kill them."

"I think I understand a bit, now," Obama said, looking the alien commander in all four of his eyes. "You do not believe I have the authority to apologize for something I did not do. Nevertheless, I represent this great nation, and it was this nation that carried out this unprovoked attack on your people. But I am not apologizing: the leader of our people is apologizing, and so therefore this means that our people are apologizing."

"This separation of person and office is strange to us," Demogorgonzola admitted. "But perhaps, in time, we will understand each other better and avoid any further misunderstandings. To that end, we shall require you to allow one of our senior officers to remain on your planet as a liaison, should any future contact be desired."

"We would be honoured," the President said.

"This is not a matter of honour, but practicality," Demogorgonzola told him. "We accept your explanation for your attack on our ship. And in light of your actions, there shall be no further retribution for the deaths of our survey team."

"Thank you, commander," Obama said.

Demogorgonzola turned to Susan. "Carbon-based life form Susan Jane Murphy!"

Susan stood to her full height. "Yeah? What do you want?" she asked suspiciously, her eyes narrow.

"I observed your actions, and those of your fellow Terrans, in the reactor core," the alien commander told her. "It appears you have saved not only the Terrans below, but also every person remaining on board our vessel. In addition, you risked personal immolation and death to rescue myself and my bridge officers. You have our gratitude."

"Uh, thanks, don't mention it," Susan replied, slightly surprised. "We couldn't just leave you there to die. That's not our way."

"Now, once we have extracted the remaining quantonium from you, we shall be on our way."

"What?" Susan gasped, unable to believe her ears. "After all we did for you, you still want to try and take my quantonium? Over my dead body!"

"And mine!" Link shouted, his dorsal fan bristling.

"And my bed body too!" Bob added, flattening himself out into a rectangular shape, his eye glowering at the aliens.

"You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us," Monger growled, his eyes red.

"No. We cannot allow you to retain possession of the forbidden substance," the commander said. "It is too dangerous. It will be removed."

"But—but I'm… I understand, I can control it—myself," Susan told him, panicking. "I… These are the right hands! I can handle the power now! I've matured! Grown!"

"That is not the issue here," Demogorgonzola told her calmly. "We accept that you are now mature enough to handle the power. Your heroic actions have demonstrated that. However, as long as the quantonium remains in this universe, in your body, it can be extracted again. It is too dangerous for it to remain in you."

"No! No, I won't let you!" Susan screamed. She stepped forward, aiming a fist at the commander, then found herself immobilized in a beam of light from the hovering craft, powerless to move anything more than her eyes.

"We do not respond well to threats, either," Demogorgonzola said quietly as the shuttle opened up a large hatch to reveal a quantonium extractor. Susan struggled in blind panic, desperate to get away, to save her quantonium.

"Commander, may I confer with you?" Xalthazar asked. The two aliens touched their antennae together briefly as Susan did her best to fight against the electromagnetic bonds that were holding her. She managed to get her head and one arm free, and was about to grab one of the aliens when Xalthazar spoke to her again.

"There is another way," he told her.

"Huh? Another way for what?" she asked, momentarily confused.

"Another way to prevent the forbidden substance inside you from ever being stolen."

Susan looked at him suspiciously, her eyes narrowed. "I'd die before I let anyone steal it!"

"Unfortunately, that will not solve the problem," he told her. "It would only make it easier. You are immensely strong, Susan Jane Murphy, but not invulnerable. You can be killed."

"Are you threatening her?" Monger growled.

"Not at all. Merely stating the truth. The quantonium can still be removed if the person holding it is dead. Therefore we shall modify your physiological structure to prevent its removal."

"Huh? You mean… you mean you're going to make it so it can't ever be taken out, not ever?" Susan asked.

"Precisely. It will become a complete part of you, at the level of quantum indeterminacy."

"What a fantastic idea!" Cockroach exclaimed. "It's perfect!"

"Huh? Explain, Doc," Susan asked.

"If it's taken down to that level, my dear, what that means is that no one can know both its position and movement. In other words, it's literally impossible to actually lock onto it, so to speak. It's why matter transportation will never work."

"We can reconstitute it at the Planck length," Xalthazar explained. "Make it part of the quantum foam."

"Will this affect how it… how it, ah, affects me at all?" Susan asked nervously.

"There will be no outwards effects," Xalthazar told her. "It will, however, reduce your expected lifespan."

"What?" she gasped, her heart leaping in fear. How many years or decades would she have left if she remained a giant? She knew normal giants often died young, as a result of the stresses their size placed on their bodies, but she… she had the quantonium, it was different, she wasn't like the others. Surely not? But then… life without Ginormica? No, she couldn't—she had tried it once, and found it torture.

"Susan, wait, maybe it's not worth it," Link told her.

"No, it's definitely not worth it!" Cockroach exclaimed. "Susan, you can't sacrifice your future like this! Please! I beg you!"

"By… by how much?" Susan stammered, fearing the answer.

"Several seconds, by our estimate," the alien told her calmly.

Susan blinked. "Oh."

"Several… seconds?" Cockroach gasped.

"Yes, it is unfortunate," the alien replied. "But it is the only option."

"I'll take it!" Susan cried ecstatically. "I'll take it!"

"Indeed. It must mean much to you, then. Very well. Be aware, Susan Murphy, Ginormica, that this process is irreversible. If you assent, the quantonium will be fused to you permanently. It will never be able to extracted. No power in the universe can do so. This means that you will never, ever be able to return to your old size."

Susan nodded. "I understand. You know, I've looked at life from both sides now, from both up and down, and still somehow… maybe something's lost, but something's gained in living every day as a giantess. I may not fit the world out there, but… but the important thing is that I fit myself."

"Very well. Enter the machine."

"You are aware that if you betray us, extract the quantonium without her permission, we have several large nuclear missiles aimed at your fleet," Monger growled. "With your shields down, you'll be destroyed immediately."

"Threats. The only application of power a soldier understands," Demogorgonzola said scornfully. "Susan Murphy, you must enter the machine."

Susan did so, her heart beating. Was she insane to trust them? Then again, they had never actually lied to her. She hoped she could trust them. Trust was very hard, but someone had to make the first move. Like she had with Mary….

As the machine closed down around her. Susan was aware of a bright light, a pale blue-green glow that grew and grew until she had to close her eyes against the glare. There was a low hum, and she could feel a warmth move up her body slowly. Then the petals were opened again and she was blinking in the sunlight. And still her full Ginormica size. The sense of relief was overwhelming.

"Is that… is that it?" she asked.

"That is it," Xalthazar told her. "Now it is a physical impossibility to extract the quantonium: it can never be taken from you again. You will remain this size until you die. I hope this is what you wanted."

Susan stood to her full height, and looked around, seeing the world from fifty feet. She looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers, then at her friends on the ground.

"How do you feel?" Cockroach asked her nervously.

"Like myself," she said simply, and smiled.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**: This took a while to complete as I spent too much time trying to come up with a Crowning Moment of Awesome more awesome than Susan's CMA in the movie, where she catches the reactor then swan-dives off the side. Eventually I realised that not only was it difficult to even get more Awesomely Crowning than that, but it wasn't actually the right theme: as the chapter title makes clear, this was the entire team working together, reinforcing the lessons that Susan has learned. So then I had to come up with a scenario where not only was each member useful, but was doing a task that only they could perform: Link's ability to breathe underwater, Monger's ability to fly, Bob's ability to absorb things (and change shape), and Susan's ability to be really strong and heavy.

Conversely, coming up with a way to allow Susan to keep the Q without it ever being a risk was the easiest part. The scientific terms I used are accurate, but that's about as far as reality goes, of course. Not only is making the Q unable to be extracted a way to ensure it remains safe in-story, but it's also a giant "take that" to the Nick cartoon series' stupid "shrinking Susan" idiocy. In my stories, Susan will never shrink again.

Delta radiation appears in Star Trek a lot. It's a generic "dangerous radiation."

The imagery of the reactor core is loosely based on a nuclear reactor, with fuel rods in a pool of water, and the glowing blue of Cherenkov radiation. Look up some photos of Cherenkov radiation: it's really quite eerily beautiful. I had the colour changing from blue to red, as that's the colour used in the final reactor-catching scene in the movie. The stuff about crystals and sound is entirely made up, however.

Bob can't spell. Bob is barely aware of the concept of spelling. His favourite flavour being "blue" is a shout-out to The Simpsons, when one of the bullies is asked which flavour Slushy or Squishy he got. It's also his own colour, but that's just coincidence.

For those who missed it, or don't remember, I calculated in "God Help the Outcasts" that Susan's weight would not allow her to float, and make swimming very hard.

The alien leader's "Wow. You really get profound" is of course a riff on a similar comment made by Gallaxhar...

The _Art of MvA_ book suggests that Insecto can actually fly rather fast indeed. This is still not going to help much, as any speed remotely fast enough to get her anywhere distant will mean anyone riding her will be exposed to winds of up to 1,000 kph. Nor does she have any loos. So all in all, still not the best way to travel long distance.

This was a really hard chapter to get to an acceptable level, with a far greater number of cut scenes or rewritten scenes. It's a lot of action, which isn't really my thing, but the next chapter, the final chapter, will be much quieter.  
Anyway, I hope this wasn't too bad, and comments, reviews, critiques, and the like are welcome.

[Edited 28 July 2013: After discussions, I have realised that Susan in fact can float very very well, as she displaces about four times her weight in water. She is very heavy, true, but then so is an aircraft carrier. I had her proportionately heavier, which she is (her weight is increased by a lot more than the nine times her height is) but it's still way short of the "normal" weight the square-cube law would require. So I have rewritten the bit where she is in danger from the flood.]


	32. The Price

**32. The Price**

"Monger, you thieving bastard!"

The cyborg general whirled, his eyes glowing orange. "Good afternoon, Klaus," he said calmly to the furious German officer striding up to him, brushing aside the Secret Service men.

"You stole my quantonium!" Klaus spat angrily.

"_Your_ quantonium?" both Susan and the President asked at the same time, though with slightly differing tones.

"Mr President, sir! General Monger deliberately allowed a soldier in custody for a court-martial to steal the alien substance collected by the Romebot! He has not only aided and abetted a felony, but has deliberately breached orders in doing so!"

The President looked at Monger. "Is this true, General?"

"Every word, sir," Monger replied with a salute. "Nobody abducts our leader. If I have to disobey orders to ensure your safety, then I will."

Obama looked over at the crashed spacecraft, and pursed his lips. "This doesn't entirely excuse your actions, General," Obama told him. "There will be a hearing. And the court-martial for Ginormica must go ahead as well."

"Of course, sir," Monger said, and Susan bit her lip.

"I understand, sir," she said in a small voice. "I deserve no less. Saving you can't excuse what I did."

"It can help mitigate it, however," the President told her. "Your actions before and after will play a major role in your trial. As will ours."

"Uh, yours, sir?"

Obama nodded. "The government abducted and detained a young, innocent person, then forced her to battle huge robots and aliens without any form of training. We rip you away from everything you had known and loved, and then are surprised when you cannot handle the stress? No, Susan, please do not worry too much about your future."

"Thank… thank you, sir," Susan stammered, saluting him.

"But Mr President, sir!" Putsch protested. "My quantonium!"

"Who is this?" Demogorgonzola interjected, observing the general with both left eyes. "And why does he interrupt?"

"Commander, this is General Klaus Putsch, head of our alien section," Obama explained as Putsch saluted the alien leader.

"Alien section?"

"In charge of all non-terrestrial artifacts and life forms on Earth!" Putsch said firmly.

Demogorgonzola arched an eyebrow. "In charge of? What does that mean? Are you in charge of us?"

Putsch's confident expression faltered briefly. "Er, that is to say, manage, organize; that sort of thing. Sometimes we come across, er, alien technology and, um… beings. These need to be kept safe and secret."

"And you have been doing this a long time?" Demogorgonzola asked.

"Ever since I arrived in this country after World War Two," Putsch explained. "My expertise in Nazi rocketry led to my…."

"In other words, about sixty-odd Earth years," Monger interrupted.

The alien commander's eyes narrowed. "So…. Were you responsible for the shooting down of our survey team?"

Putsch's face blanched, and he started to stammer out an apology as other aliens gathered around him, their expressions furious.

"Commander," Monger said. "Might I make a suggestion? We would of course be honoured to host one of your people as a liaison for any future contacts. It might be an idea to send one of our people with you, as our liaison. I am sure General Putsch would be honoured if he were so chosen."

Demogorgonzola looked at the cyborg, and inclined his massive cranium to one side. "That would be quite acceptable. Your Klausputsch General shall return to our new home planet with us. And I shall leave Xalthazar in charge of alien devices on this planet, as none of you know how to operate them."

"Agreed," Obama said quickly, looking nervously at the tall aliens. "General Putsch, your country thanks you for your service. As a man who has looked to the stars all his life, I have no doubt that this posting must be the fulfilment of your dreams. Good luck, soldier."

"Uh… I…. er... thank you, sir," Putsch stammered, looking pale.

"Now let's get this mess cleaned up! Monger! I want a full report on the status of Area 52, including casualties and structural damage. I also need a report on environmental and health concerns from the crashed spacecraft, and plans to dispose of it. You will liaise with your alien counterpart regarding all these issues."

"Sir!" Monger and the rest of the Monster Force saluted as the President left.

"Okay, monsters," Monger told them. "Looks like there's been some substantial damage to the base. Luckily there are no fatalities, but it'll take a while to sort out. The operations room is no longer usable, so for the time being we shall need to find another location."

"Uh, General, is there anything I help with?" Susan asked.

"Help? What do you mean?"

"You know, like, uh, lifting heavy things. Human crane here, remember," she added with a self-deprecating shrug and smile. "I don't mind. Honest."

Monger nodded. "Any help you can provide will be much appreciated. Report to Colonel Hathi in the aircraft hangar."

"Sir!" Susan saluted and headed off, glad to have something useful to do.

* * *

For the next few hours, Susan spent her time lifting and carrying massive beams and chunks of masonry, helping to clear the main areas of the Monster Containment Facility. She would generally be able to pulverize the larger pieces of concrete, but steel beams and the like had to be carried out. She did appreciate a few of the comments about her incredible strength, especially when lifting some of the larger sections which weighed several hundred tons. But it was still fairly dreary and very dirty work, and she was glad when she could stop for the night and rejoin her friends outside.

"Right, men. Woman. Monsters," Monger told them when Susan arrived. "With the damage to the base and your common room, looks like we're gonna have us a camp-out tonight. We're going to organise sleeping equipment, including as many mattresses as we can find for you, Ginormica."

"Yes, sir. Uh, what about showers?" Susan asked, gesturing towards her dirty body.

"No showers. Hit the lake," Monger suggested, jerking his thumb towards the hills.

"Race you up!" Link shouted, dashing off. Susan grinned, and ran after him, her feet pounding heavily on the desert. It was not as easy to find her way along the narrow path in the dark, but she knew the route very well, so managed to swiftly overtake the fish-ape. Reaching the lake, she leaned against the cliff and relaxed while she waited for him to arrive. She couldn't help thinking back to the last time she had been alone in the desert at night, but, with an effort, she pushed those unpleasant memories back beneath the surface. There would be time enough to reflect on them in jail, she thought unhappily. In the meantime, she would make the most of the last of her freedom.

"There you are!" she called when Link finally arrived, breathing heavily. "You got beaten by a girl!"

"No fair," he sulked, not looking at her. "You got way longer legs! How can I compete? Maybe I should head to Coco Beach after all…."

"Oh come on, don't be like that," Susan begged, suddenly afraid she had overstepped a line. "Please? I didn't mean anything by it. Honest. I'm sorry!"

Link turned around, and Susan could see he was grinning widely.

"Just winding you up, kid," he said. "Nah. You're way bigger than I am. It's a fact. Just not as agile, remember!" he told her, executing a few swift moves that for once did not end in in him straining something.

"Yeah, it's not the size of the monster in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the monster," Susan agreed with a relieved smile as she stripped her filthy clothes off.

"And don't you forget it!" he called as the naked giantess ran into the lake. He ducked as a tidal wave swamped him. "Well, I guess that's my shower done," he added, shaking water off his head and then following Susan in. She was floating on her back on the surface, looking up at the stars.

"I don't know why I never did this before," she sighed, looking up at the infinite heavens.

"Did what? Have a bath? Yeah, you need one!"

"No, silly," Susan said. "Come out here at night. The stars are so cool."

"It can get chilly out in the desert at night," Link told her. "In winter, at any rate."

"It's still summer, though," Susan reminded him. "Sometimes I can't believe that."

"Can't believe it's still summer? Why not?"

"Can't believe it's _still _summer," Susan emphasized. "Seems like a year, at least. My wedding, when I became Ginormica, that was only in June. So what's the date today?"

"No idea," Link told her. "never cared about that sort of thing. What do prisoners need to worry about dates for?"

"Yeah, prisoners..." Susan trailed off.

"Look! A shooting star!" Link suddenly called, distracting her.

"Where? I missed it!" Susan exclaimed.

"Sorry, it went by pretty fast. Coulda been an alien ship, mind," the fish-ape noted. "Who'da thunk it? Aliens!"

Susan laughed. "It's pretty amazing, yeah. Aliens, on Earth. But then again, this time three months ago, if you'd told me there was such a thing as a cross between a fish and an ape, or a man with an insect's head, or a great gelatinous mass that could talk and, er, sort of think…."

"You'd have reckoned they were crazy, right?"

"About as crazy as someone saying they saw a fifty-foot giantess, yeah," Susan agreed, and sighed. "Everything's been happening so fast…."

"You said it," he agreed. "Monsters, aliens, robots, alien robots, monster aliens, robot monsters…. I gotta say, ever since you came, it's been one thing after the other."

"It has, hasn't it?" Susan laughed. Then her face grew solemn again. "Sometimes I've wished the quantonium had never come to me, that none of this had happened. But you know what?" she asked, twisting to look directly at her friend. "I've made my decision about that, and I'm happy with it. All I can decide now is how to live with this power that was given to me."

"So what are you going to do?"

"That's what I have to decide," Susan told him. She stood up, the droplets on her tall nude body sparkling in the dim moonlight. "Come on. Let's get back to the others…."

* * *

"Come on Susan, it's starting," Link called. Susan headed out to the damaged common room, and took her seat. The television screen came on, showing the President sitting behind the famous Resolute desk.

"My fellow Americans," came the President's voice. "The past few weeks will prove to have been some of the most momentous in the entire history of our nation, and indeed our planet. Following the invasion threat from the renegade criminal known as Gallaxhar, the remnants of the great extra-terrestrial civilisation he tried to destroy have been tracking him down. Almost two weeks ago, their fleet arrived above Earth; the skies of our once-lonely planet were filled with these great silent vessels of space, sundering forever our isolation from the cosmos.

"Days of intense negotiations with the alien leaders have proved their good will to humanity, and paved the way for a bright future together. The Panthalassans have provided generous compensation for the damage done to the suburbs of Rome, and for the destruction of San Francisco by Gallaxhar's robot probe. I am pleased and humbled to announce that they have shared with us the secret of clean nuclear fusion power, saving us decades of research and helping us to protect the planet, as well as the technologies required for interplanetary travel. While travel to the stars remains a distant dream, we now have the ability to travel freely without our own solar system, reaching Mars, for example, in a matter of days rather than months.

"None of this would have been possible without an extraordinary group of heroes. The same heroes whose very existence was only finally officially acknowledged after the terrible attack on San Francisco. Heroes who were prepared to sacrifice their lives to save us from the threat of Gallaxhar. And heroes that the United States government feared, and locked away, robbing of their rights as sentient beings. Doctor Cockroach, the Missing Link, the Invisible Man, Benzoate Ostylezene Bicarbonate, Insectosaurus, Ginormica, and Vampirella. Their hard work and sacrifice has brought about the dawn of a new age for all humanity. A new age in which we can step forth and take our place among the stars…."

"He mentioned Mary," Susan said sadly after the broadcast ended.

"He did," Cockroach agreed.

Susan slipped her hand around Cockroach, and held him firmly as a tear trickled down her cheek.

"I've never lost anyone before," she whispered. "I never knew how much it hurts. Every time I remember, the pain returns…. Does this feeling ever go away?"

"It never does," Cockroach told her gently. "All that happens is that you no longer spend every waking hour feeling it."

"I suppose. I mean, I feel guilt for not thinking about her every moment of the day."

"That will pass, in time. But it will never completely fade. And you should be glad it does not. It's the price we pay for being people, humans: not monsters."

"Yeah," Susan said softly. "Humans…."

* * *

Susan slowly walked back to the common room, wiping her tears. The trial had lasted two days, but was finally over. It had been very painful, reliving the night Mary died and she had lost control, had become the monster everyone feared she really was. Even the glowing statements supporting her by everyone from the President on down had failed to dispel her self-hating gloom. Now the judges were debating her sentence, consulting with other officers. There was nothing to do but wait, in nail-biting apprehension, to find out her ultimate fate. But whatever happened, even if she had to spend years in a lonely, purpose-built jail, she would survive, she told herself. She would survive because she was Ginormica. And, even more so, she would survive because she was Susan Murphy. Because she had learned and matured, thanks to people like Mary. But… that did not mean it was actually going to be easy, she knew.

"Hey," Link said, barely able to meet Susan's eyes as she entered. "How'd the… how are you? We're there for you, you know. Always."

The giantess threw herself down on the sofa, sobbing. "It was horrible," she eventually whispered. "Talking about it, seeing the faces of the men I killed…. I'm doomed. I should be locked away for ever. I bet I will be."

"Oh, surely not," Link said, hopping down to her sofa and walking across to near her huge, tear-streaked, face. "The President himself spoke in your defence, right?"

Susan nodded. "He said… he admitted that the government policy of confining monsters was a mistake, and was a… what was the term? A major factor in contributing to my emotional instability. Emotional instability? Yeah, is that what they're calling going full monster now?"

"Look, you should get some rest. It's over now. Just sit back and wait for the pieces to stop falling. We'll be here for you, ya know. Always."

"Thanks. I do know. I do."

"I gotta head out, be a witness or something. You hang in there, ya hear?"

Susan managed a weak smile as Link left. She slumped down on the sofa, wishing her tablet hadn't been broken. Some music might help her relax, but that was out of the question now. All she could do was wait. Wait, and go over the trial again and again in her mind, wondering what she might have said differently, what the judges thought of her, and what her eventual fate would be.

"Ginormica, wake up!"

Susan's eyes flew open. Monger was hovering by her head. She sat up quickly, and saluted. "I wasn't asleep, sir! Just thinking!"

"The verdict is in. Return to the courtroom for sentencing."

Susan's heart leapt into her mouth so hard she almost felt like throwing up, but she got to her feet, and carefully followed Monger out. The judges were assembled in the old common room, which had been pressed into service as a makeshift courtroom. Susan took her seat, towering over them all. The trial had made her feel, at times, rather like Alice in Wonderland, when Alice was tried by the pack of cards and suddenly started growing again. Unlike Alice, however, this was not a dream. It was her harsh reality.

The presiding judge advocate banged his gavel. "Major Susan Jane Murphy, also known as Ginormica! Stand for the reading of the sentence!"

Susan did so, feeling even more awkward.

"Let me say from the outset that it is very clear to us that you have rendered very great service, over and above the call of duty, both to the army and to your country, indeed the world. You have an exemplary character, and we accept that you have demonstrated genuine remorse.

"Nevertheless, the court would not be doing its duty in relation to the protection of the public at large if it did not bear in mind the grave consequences of your behaviour. Therefore, in the matter of the United States Armed Forces vs. Major Susan Jane Murphy, on the charges of wilful murder, attempted murder, wilful destruction of property, and failure to obey orders, we find the defendant guilty as charged."

Susan reeled. She had expected this—there was no question of her guilt, after all—but it was still a shock to actually hear it. She bit her lip, determined not to cry. She had no right to feel sorry for herself, after all. This was nothing compared to the pain she had caused others.

"You must understand that these are extremely serious offences that require a custodial sentence of considerable length. In view of your guilty plea, your exemplary character, the circumstances of the offence and all other matters which we take into account, namely and to wit the saving of San Francisco and Rome from alien robot attack and the saving of Earth from alien invasion, and your subsequent actions, namely and to wit the rescue of the President of the United States from alien abduction, in the process thereof saving his life and the lives of others on multiple occasions, and in due consideration of the role of the United States military and government in its treatment of the accused, we consider the following sentence fitting. You will be stripped of all rank and privileges as an officer in the United States Army, immediately conveyed to your designated place of confinement, and there to serve out a sentence of six months incarceration. Said place of confinement being, in light of your physical handicaps, the Monster Containment Facility at the site designed Area 52, or any such subsequent sites."

The judge finished reading his decision, and Susan burst out weeping from relief, guilt, and sadness.

"Less of the waterworks, Ginormica," Monger ordered sternly. "Follow me to your cell."

"Yes, sir," Susan said. Monger led her across the chamber, right back to the original cell she had spent her first week in. The _Hang In There_ poster was still on the wall, though there was now a large desk and reading lamp installed.

"Am… am I to live here now?" she asked timidly.

"For the indefinite future," Monger ordered. "Your normal room is not in any habitable state."

"No, I suppose not," Susan agreed, remembering the mess that had first greeted her when she was helping clean the base up. The entire ceiling had come down.

"You will have to move your personal items, such as they are, in here," Monger told her. "There will be some other changes in your daily life, of course."

"What sort of changes, sir?"

"Time topside will be limited to an hour a day, for exercise. You will only be allowed to leave Area 52 on official business. Computer use will be restricted. You will be required to continue your studies. That's what the desk is for. You may be living in the same base, but don't think your life is going to be the same. It will be harder. And it will continue to be harder once you have served out your sentence and your rank has been restored."

"Restored?" Susan asked in surprise.

"You think we're going to let someone as valuable as you out of our sight? Out of my sight? You're mine, Maj—Ginormica. You're a member of Monster Force, whether you like it or not."

"I do like it," Susan admitted. She looked up at the floating cyborg, noticing how his jetpack burners were no longer flames: they appeared to work by anti-grav repulsors. He was now just as much a monster as she was. They were all monsters, together. "And I know my life will be harder. I'm just grateful to be allowed to… to serve my time here."

"Yeah, well, a number of high-ranking people argued passionately on your behalf," Monger admitted, turning a little pink.

"Including you, General?" Susan asked with a gentle smile.

"Well, I might have made a few minor points. And this Hawaiian friend of yours put in a good word for you."

"Hawaiian friend?" Susan looked confused. "You mean Link?"

"Not him. Chap by the name of Barack…."

"Oh, the President? I admit, I hadn't expected that," Susan said quietly. "I guess I got lucky."

"Yes, well, it's not quite a full Presidential pardon, but a hell of lot more than…"

"Than I deserve. I know, General," Susan told him, her face serious. "I swear, I won't let you down this time. I'm in control. I know what I am now, and what I want to be."

"And what is that?" Monger asked.

"Someone who is worthy of all the sacrifices everyone has to make for her."

Monger nodded. "Good answer. Make sure that you are."

"Hey! Whaddaya think? You get to stick around with us!" Link scrambled up to Susan's bed, and stood there, hands on hips, grinning at her. Bob was beside him, making his body into a huge thumbs-up gesture.

Susan grinned back. "I admit, it's a lot better than I was fearing."

"Still," Link said, his face serious, "I reckon they should have just let you off. You know, after all you did."

"After all we did, you mean," she corrected him gently. "No, the General is right. The court was very lenient."

"Not as lenient as they were going to be, mind," Link grunted.

"What do you mean?"

"Yeah, Mr Obanana wanted to give you an excuse me!" Bob cried happily.

"Pardon me?" Susan asked, more confused than usual by Bob's strange logic.

"Yes, one of those," he told her happily.

"A—a pardon?" Susan gasped. "So… so why wasn't I pardoned?"

"I'm afraid we cannot discuss our deliberations," Monger told her.

"That's right. We can't tell you that the Doc wanted you put away in prison," Bob added, and then missed the glares shot at him by the others as he was distracted by a blinking light on Monger's jetpack.

Susan gasped. It felt as if she had just been punched in the gut. "Do—Doc?" she stammered. "Doc! He wanted me... he wouldn't let me… No…" She shook her head, unable to make sense of it all. "Why?"

"I suggest you take that up directly with him," Monger told her. "Bob, in my office. Now."

"Are we going to play cards again?" Bob asked.

"No, we are going to go over your lessons on what the word 'confidential' means," Monger growled. But Susan wasn't paying attention. She almost felt like weeping. A flash of rage shot through her, which she pushed down. No, there must be some mistake, she decided. Cockroach, of all people? Not a chance. Not possible. She hurried into the common room and thumped on his door, somewhat harder than usual.

"Just a moment!" she heard him call. There were a few muffled thumps and bangs, and then the door slid open. "Susan, my dear, how lovely to see you!" he exclaimed, rolling out in his wheelchair. "Uh… how do you feel?" he added, catching sight of her upset face looming above him.

"Doc… is it true? Did you really tell the President not to pardon me?"

Cockroach looked up at her, his expression now serious. "Yes, I did."

Susan found herself unable to form a single word. She just looked at him like she couldn't believe what he had said.

"I know. Maybe you think I've finally gone quite mad. I haven't, my dear."

"So… why?"

"Because I know you need to be punished." He held up a hand. "No, I don't mean it like that. Let me explain. I know you, Susan. I know you very well. And I know that regardless of what anyone says about mitigating circumstances, you still feel guilt for the people you killed. And getting a pardon would just make you feel more guilty. You would feel that you had got off scott-free, and your conscience would not let you forget that. You need to be punished, because inside, you cannot begin to forgive yourself until you have been punished. So I asked the President to get them to sentence you to a nominal six months, here. I'm sorry, Susan. I wish I could have discussed this with you. But we weren't allowed."

"You're… you're so right, you know," Susan eventually confessed. "I guess I wouldn't have felt right. But this way, I'm in prison, but in my home… with my friends. Mary told me this was heaven for me—am I being punished by being made to serve in heaven?"

"That's about the size of it," Cockroach admitted.

Susan looked around, a gigantic smile spreading across her face. "You know…. Somehow, I think I'll cope."

* * *

"Hey, Mom, Dad," Susan said with a smile as her parents entered her cell a few hours later, accompanied by Monger. She saluted the general. "Visiting hour, is it, sir?"

"Just briefly," he told her. "They can't stay long. I'll be back to pick them up at four."

He flew off, and Susan was left alone with her parents.

"Come on up," she told them, holding down her hands. Her parents sat in her palms, nervously holding her fingers tightly as Susan carefully lifted them to her desk.

"Oh, they can't put you in prison, can they? Not our little girl?" her mother said, looking scared.

"Not so little, Wendy," Susan's father noted, looking up at his gigantic daughter proudly.

"No. Not so little," Susan agreed. "And yes, they can. But did you hear?" she added happily. "I get to serve out my time here at home!"

"At home? Oh, you mean here? Well, that's, er, very nice," her mother said. "Will… will we still see you?"

Susan's smile vanished. There was a brief pause, then she shook her head. "I won't be allowed to go to Modesto, except maybe on official business."

"Well, we might get lucky and get invaded by aliens again," her father joked.

"Maybe…. Perhaps you could come here instead…" She trailed off, biting her lower lip a bit.

"We'll visit as often as we can, Susie Q," her father said. "So even if you can't, you know…."

"Get out. Yeah. Don't worry. I'll be fine, she said with a confidence she didn't really feel…" she added, trying to keep the mood light.

"I'm sure you will, my dear," her father said firmly. "You're strong enough to cope. You know you are. And never forget we will always love you, always be there for you."

"I'm going to miss you," Susan said quietly. "I wish you could stay here."

"I know. So do I. But we have to go back home, sweetie," her mother explained. "The house here has been flattened, the base is in a mess, and we shouldn't really impose even if we were allowed to. Dry your tears, my dear. It won't be long."

"And if you get time off for good behaviour, maybe you could be home for Christmas…" her father added.

"Maybe." Susan gave a weak smile. "In the meantime…." She sighed, looking around and spotting her childhood comforter on the bed. She reached over and picked up the tiny stuffed toy in her huge hand, then pressed it gently to her cheek. "Well, things could be worse. At least I get to stay at the base."

"Oh, what's Pussy-Boots doing here?" her father asked in surprise. "I thought you were going to leave him at home, to show that you'd always return."

"I was. But I am home now." She looked around her spartan cell, and smiled, happily this time. "I'll always love you, I'll always come back to you. You know that. But this is where my home is now. Where my heart is…."

.

* * *

**MY NOTES**: Once again, a chapter has been split in two due to excess length. Sometimes it really does feel like Zeno's Paradox: each final chapter gets split into two, and then split again, and again, and we never reach the end...

Anyhow... Facts? Not that many. I've decided to leave an alien representative with the monsters, in a similar way to how the TV series does it, but everything else about that will be completely different. I'd probably have done it anyway, since alien life is no longer something that can be swept under the proverbial rug. Makes sense they'd have a liaison.

Putsch I basically view as one of those former Nazi V2 engineers that were brought back to the US after WW2 and kick-started the US space program.

I gave Susan and Link a final scene together, since they don't have one in the next chapter, which will be the final chapter, really honest this time. Well, aside from an epilogue, probably.

Re the date. I actually went and created a rough spreadsheet of the dates in this and God Help the Outcasts, adding up all the "two days later" bits. I had initially assumed it being July would allow for a June wedding, but that wasn't the case at all. In fact I had to push the wedding right back to April to make it all fit, having already said Susan wanders the desert and is returned to Modesto in July. For what it's worth, at the moment I see the wedding as having been on Sunday April 22, 2012, and the "current" date as of the end of the chapter is July 17th. And purely by coincidence, July 4th is the day she spends hiding in the scout camp. Oh, and if you're wondering, the new moon for July 2012 was the 18th, so it would be pretty dark at night indeed.

ERROR CORRECTION: Oops. Susan floats. In the course of a discussion with Celestial Rainstorm I took another look at my calculations and realized that the fact she is so much lighter than she should be with a strict reading of the square cube law means that she would very definitely float, much more than a normal person in fact, the human body having a specific gravity of nearly that of water (which is why we can basically float with air in our lungs, and remain sunken with no air in our lungs). I will need to go back and make some changes to previous chapters, but hopefully nothing major.

Susan's statement "Sometimes I've wished the quantonium had never come to me, that none of this had happened" is taken from LOTR, though the bit after that (Gandalf's reply) is very heavily modified.

For those who don't know, the desk that is almost always used by the US President is called the Resolute desk, because it's made from the timbers of a British ship called The Resolute. Look it up - it's a very important desk that symbolizes peace between the United States and the United Kingdom, which were on the verge of war. Yet again. Also it's a very cool desk.

Re the President's speech: I would hope that if we ever do get contacted by aliens that they would help us out with a few things. I've chosen things that are a matter of decades away, rather than centuries (or ever) so as not to get too crazy. Zipping around the solar system versus zipping around the galaxy is like walking down to the corner shops versus walking across the Pacific Ocean...

I really know little to nothing about courts-martial, other than how to pluralize the term. Nor did I want to spend a lot of time on it, when the important thing is how she reacts and grows subsequently anyway. The sentencing is half made up from various crime or court scenes I have seen, and half taken from the transcript of one I found online. She's been a Big Damn Hero several times, so it's possible she could be pardoned. I did, however, think it was important that Susan be punished, for the reasons Doc gives her.

Modesto get invaded by aliens again? Well, I am toying vaguely with the idea of doing a "novelization" of _Mutant Pumpkins_, though it will need major changes to mesh with my less comic universe, so who knows... aliens might come again. And I'm sure we all want to give Susan a chance to wear her Zombie Cheerleader outfit...

The last chapter is largely done, but needs fine-tuning and some linking scenes. Being the last chapter, it is, of course, a very important one...

[Posted 16 July 2013]

[Minor editing corrections on July 30, also changed date to reflect finalized timeline]


	33. Màiri Cridhe

**33. Màiri Cridhe**

A few days after her trial, Susan was sitting with the other monsters, and a few assembled guests, on the flat, empty desert behind the Area 52 chapel. She looked around at the desolate landscape, the great wide featureless plain that extended to the distant mountains. It wasn't the sort of place she would like to spend eternity in, and she quietly resolved to herself to take Mary's remains back to Scotland one day, so she could finally be reunited with her family. But for the time being her friend would be interred here, in this small and remote cemetery, next to Nancy; together they would lie, timeless in the quiet ground, side by side in ageless sadness.

A lone violin started playing. A high, thin lonely note of infinite melancholy, it was soon joined by others, changing to a sweet, aching melody of great loss and beauty; a slow lament that spoke to Susan of suffering and tears, yet with the gentle promise of redemption and rebirth.

With slow and measured tread, an honour guard emerged from the chapel building, their legs in perfect precision, carrying a coffin. Inside, Susan knew, were the remains of Nancy Archer, their quantonium safely extracted. She had seen the carefully-arranged skeleton earlier; small, delicate white bones almost lost within the pale cream silk lining of the casket. Nancy's coffin was placed gently in position, and the music died away, replaced by a tune she didn't recognise.

"What's this song?" Susan asked, suddenly wondering why the music had changed to classic rock. Her funeral program listed it as _All I Have to Do Is Dream_, from 1958. Intrigued, she listened to the lyrics. "…_when I feel blue in the night and I need you to hold me tight, whenever I want you, all I have to do is dream… dream, dream, dream, dream_…"

On her right, she became aware that Cockroach was shaking slightly. She glanced down at him, and saw his eyes were closed and his face was buried in his hands, his shoulders heaving with the pain of his guilt and sorrow, keening softly as he slowly rocked back and forth.

"Doc? You okay? What's the matter?"

"It's… it's this song... I know I asked for it to be played… but it hurts. It hurts so much."

"Why does it hurt?" Susan asked, concern and sympathy in her voice.

"She… she would sing this song to herself at night," Cockroach whispered, his voice barely audible. "Alone in her cold, bare cell, she would hug her arms around her, and softly sing this song to herself. Perhaps she was trying to convince herself it was all a dream…. I… I used to observe her, sometimes. Out of callous, clinical curiosity. I was such a monster…. Oh, I would give anything for her to hear it now, and know how desperately sorry I am. How much I wish she could forgive me."

"I'm sure she does know," Susan said gently, her hand around Cockroach's back, stroking it softly. "And I'm sure she would."

"Thank you, my dear…. That's sweet of you to say. But… she can't. She can never know... And that is my punishment—I can never get her forgiveness."

The song ended, and a lone bagpiper began to play, the sound rising and falling on the early evening breeze. Then a small white coffin came into view, carried with solemn dignity, as if it were the most precious thing in the world, by six tall soldiers in full dress uniform. Their imposing size made Mary's coffin seem even smaller, and Susan's lower lip trembled as she imagined the pale cold figure lying inside.

"Mary never did like confined spaces," she whispered softly to Cockroach.

The bagpipe was joined by a violin, and a female voice began to sing a lilting, plaintive song in a strange language.

"What's the song?" Cockroach asked quietly.

"It's called _Griogal Cridhe_," Susan explained. "An old Scottish lullaby about a lost love."

"It's so beautiful," he whispered. "Did you choose it for her?"

Susan nodded, blinking back her tears. "Mary… Mary liked listening to songs that reminded her of… of her home, her childhood. She… she would have loved this..." Susan could no longer hold her tears in check, and could feel them running down her cheeks in thin streams as she mourned for her friend.

They stood up as the priest started the joint service with an opening prayer. _Mary definitely wouldn't have approved_, Susan thought to herself with a slight smile. _She never had any use for God, or religion. And I can't say I blame her, either. Religion told her she was a demon, damned to Hell…_. She felt herself weeping again as she thought of Mary's lonely life, and with an effort she concentrated on how happy they had been together, at least once they had become friends. She smiled, remembering how antagonistic Mary had been at first. Her cold, sarcastic exterior had been nothing more than a wall to keep a cruel, heartless world at bay for so long; each year, each decade of being hated and hunted adding another brick, imprisoning her heart.

Susan wiped her eyes, trying to stem her streaming tears. She looked down towards the two coffins, wondering why it was so hard to think of them as having people inside them, still and cold for ever. How could a person be shoved in a box, as if they were nothing more than a new pair of shoes, and carted off? Suddenly she found herself almost giggling, as the memory of smuggling Mary out of the base in a suitcase flashed into her mind. With an effort, she composed her face into something more befitting a funeral, but she couldn't help it—for some reason all the little jokes they had shared were suddenly flooding her memory. Susan found herself desperate to laugh, and just managed to change it into pretend sobs. But they soon turned into real ones anyway as her emotions overcame her. A few people briefly glanced at the teary giantess, but their faces were sympathetic. Her heartbeat echoing in her ears, she slowly calmed down, breathing slowly and deliberately, trying to focus, regain control. _Control, control_, she told herself, chanting it inside her head like a mantra. _You must learn control_….

"Susan?"

"Yes, Doc?" she asked, startled at the sudden interruption.

"It's time for your eulogy," he said, gesturing to the podium.

With a heavy heart, the giantess stood up and carefully made her way to the front. She carefully moved over to the open casket, and knelt down slowly to pay her last respects. Mary's face was peaceful, and it looked as if she were smiling faintly. Her pale features were framed by her long black hair, and her hands were crossed over her chest, holding a small photo.

"What's that?" Susan asked.

"We found it in her cell," the priest said softly. "It was the only decoration there. Dr Cockroach thought it might be appropriate."

Susan took a closer look, and found her throat constrict. It was a photo of her and Mary taken by her mother, that evening a bit before their trip to Vegas when they had all had dinner together. Susan was sitting cross-legged on the ground, and Mary was perched on her knee, looking up from Susan's wrist with a guilty grin, blood on her lips.

"Oh, Mary. Heaven may not have been enough for you, but here at least you shall be free…" she whispered, her voice choking. Susan gently kissed her finger, then touched it delicately to her friend's smooth forehead. "She looks so delicate, so perfect," she added, glancing down at the priest.

"It's strange," her told her, looking up at the huge giantess without fear. "She hasn't been embalmed. Ironically, it seems that vampires might be incorruptible."

"Mary was, at least," Susan told him. "I believe that somewhere, deep in her heart, the innocent child she once was always remained. No matter how horrible her life became, no matter how much of a monster she felt she was, there was always a tiny spark, an undying ember, of her purity, her humanity, glowing bright beneath the cold ashes of her existence."

A tear dripped from her cheek onto Mary's red dress, making a small dark spot, and Susan stared at it, suddenly remembering Nancy. Two dead monsters. And two living ones whose lives had been forever changed by them.

With a sigh, she took out the large sheet of paper she had written her notes on and gazed blankly at it, her eyes unfocused, the tears falling gently. She could not make out the words she had written, or the assembled mourners waiting expectantly. All she could see was her memories of Mary. The cruel, hostile child she had first seen her as. The seductive siren she had feared she was. And the warm, intelligent, caring friend she knew she was. Susan took a deep breath as she thought about her friend, and her long and hard life. What could she possibly say that would do justice to it?

* * *

_1784_

"I'm afraid there's nothing more I can do for her, my lord." With a sigh, the doctor removed the last of the leeches from the young girl's pale skin, leaving small smears of red blood which a maid quickly wiped away.

"God curse you, you incompetent fool, what's causing this? Why is she dying?" The balding, stout Seventh Earl of Traquair glowered at the physician while his wife, a pale, dark-haired beauty, remained behind him, her face etched with the agony of watching her first-born child's life slowly ebb away.

"I… apologize, my lord. It is beyond my understanding," the physician replied. "I have tried everything. The very latest in medical knowledge from the University of Paris. All her humours seem in balance, yet…. It could be a miasma… It could be…. It is… most confusing. Lord knows, our land has been stalked by the Devil himself of late. I… am so sorry, my lord."

"Let me see my daughter," the Countess said, her voice quiet but determined.

The Earl stood aside and let his wife sit by the bed. She took the pale, cold hand of her child in her own, stroking it softly, tears pouring down her face.

"Please, Mary, Mary, open your eyes, please…" her mother pleaded.

.

_1784_

The young dark-haired girl with the pale face stood underneath the heavy branches of the ancient yew tree, looking down on the distant house with its short turrets and chimneys stabbing into the night sky, black against deep blue. Its many mullioned windows were ablaze with the golden glow of hearth and home, tormenting her with happy memories.

"You're all down there, warm and happy together," she whispered. "And I'm looking in from the outside, cold, alone. Oh, it's so hard to be alone. So very hard…."

There were no tears any more: they had finally run dry. But the pain of rejection remained; the horror and disgust on the faces of the people she had thought loved her were seared into her soul. What had happened to her? What was she? A monster, a demon, like her parents had called her? And there was the constant, gnawing, hunger: since that terrible night a week ago, when she had woken alone, buried in the crypt, she had been unable to keep anything down. She was desperate for anything to nourish her, feed her hunger. And even more desperately lonely and afraid, wishing she could feel the gentle touch of her mother around her shoulders. But now she knew she could not go back; she could never again know the golden warmth of home.

Sighing sadly, the small girl wiped her nose on the sleeve of her once-elegant white dress, now stained and muddy, ripped by brambles. Finding she still had some tears yet to shed, the new-born vampire that was once Lady Mary Stewart turned sadly away, away from her family, her childhood home, and all she had ever known, and started walking slowly down the long dark road.

.

_1807_

The thin waifish girl sat crouched in a corner of the small, spartan room, a nasty fresh welt across her cheek, weeping in despair and fear as the man warily approached her, a wooden stake in his hand.

"No, James, please, stop…." she whimpered, holding her hands out pleadingly. "I am no demon! It's me, your betrothed—you know me! We've been together for nearly a twelvemonth! You know I love you! James, please! No! Save me!"

"You? You monster! The devil blinded me to your true nature! To think how near I came to the abyss! But you slipped up; you let me glimpse your true demonic nature as we lay together. I curse you, whore of Satan, in the name of Christ!"

"No, please! You told me—you told me you love me! Don't you remember? We… we were going to be married. You and I… together…. I beseech you, James, my love. Please… don't do this…."

"Silence! Your words are an abomination, as you are an abomination! A foul thing from the depths of Hell, a seductive succubus! And now I will send you back to your master!"

He suddenly lunged at her, the sharp stake aimed at her heart. She shrieked and dodged, springing to her feet. She leapt past him, then dashed out into the dark Edinburgh night, running for miles through the narrow, twisty streets, heedless of where she was going. All she knew was that she could not remain there. They would hunt her, like they always did; they would find her… and then they would kill her….

She caught her foot on a piece of garbage and fell headlong, tumbling into the mud. The still-young vampire lay there, face down in the filth, letting her tears mingle with the soil. There was no hope—it was all over. She had come so near to happiness, to having a home again, a family…. And now, in an instant, it had been snatched away from her. Because in a moment of love-blind weakness, thinking she could finally trust someone, she had allowed him to see her true nature. And then… and then he had revealed his. And now, with a painfully cold finality that froze her heart in a block of ice, Lady Mary realised that she could never trust anyone again. Ever…

.

_1845_

The young girl walked along the narrow, crooked, filthy streets of the East End slum, her face a frozen mask, looking around her with a cold, hard gaze. Scarcely a whole window-pane could be found in the tall, narrow houses, with their crumbling walls, their door-posts and window-frames loose and broken. Heaps of garbage and ashes lay in all directions, and the foul liquids emptied before the doors gathered in stinking pools. She passed a couple of young children, no more than eight or ten, who made their living selling small bunches of watercress for pennies. She never saw them cry, no matter how cold the weather, or how hungry they were—there was no use in crying. Not down here. Not in the abyss. That was a lesson she had learned decades ago.

Her hand was thrust deep into the pocket of her thin grimy garment, clutched tightly around the few battered coppers she had managed to earn that night. But now it was close on morning, and not only was the sun unpleasantly painful on her tender skin, the shameful work she was forced to do preferred the concealing cloak of night. As did her hunting for sustenance….

The pale girl passed a ramshackle vegetable market, where the only goods for sale were already half-rotten, the air ripe with their stench, and turned off into a narrow alley, where she made her way to a tiny cellar dwelling; windowless, devoid of all furniture save a rickety table and a rush-bottomed chair with a hole in the seat, and a pile of rags in a corner for a bed. It was a far cry from the noble estate she had grown up in, yet the small thin vampire still counted herself lucky: for the first year or so after her arrival in London, she had huddled together under trees in the great parks with other young women, seduced like her from the country and turned loose on the world in all the destitution of friendless penury.

She fished out the coins from her pocket, and eased aside a loose brick in the damp wall. There was a small space behind it, in which there were a number of small bags of money; the fruits of her demeaning labours. "It won't be long now, not this time," Mary promised herself. "Just a few more years. And then I can finally escape…."

.

_1889_

"Miss Stewart!"

The small, elegantly-dressed woman turned from the nursery window. "What is it, Lady Violet?" she asked the young child.

"I do not quite follow the second declension here, for Oceani. Is it nominative or genitive?"

"Read the sentence," the child-like tutor ordered in a voice that belied her youthful appearance.

"Aquitania a… Garumna flumine ad… Pyrenaeos montes et eam partem… Oceani quae est ad Hispaniam… pertinet."

"Good. And the translation?"

The young girl sat at her desk, puzzling away at the sentence from Julius Caesar's _Commentarii de Bello Gallico_. It was a warm summer evening, and Mary, standing at the tall window of the elegant townhouse, looked down on the Belgravia street and sighed. It had not been that many years since she had first dared to venture, her precious degree and registration as a governess in hand, into this upscale residential area, London home of some of the finest families in the country. But not hers: hers no longer existed, as her baby brother Charlie, the last Earl of Traquair, had died an old man nearly twenty years before. Mary had not been able to attend the funeral, but had finally managed to pay a visit to his grave one night a few years ago, leaving a single white rose to mark the final extinction of her line.

"Aquitania extends from the river… Garonne… to the Pyrenaean mountains… and to that… uh… part of the… ocean which is near Spain," Violet read slowly, distracting Mary from her memories.

"So…?"

"Genitive," Violet said with certainty.

"Because?"

"It's singular."

"Very good, my lady," Mary said with a smile.

The door to the room suddenly opened and a man in expensive, ornate clothing walked in. Mary immediately curtseyed low.

"Good afternoon, Your Grace," she said quietly.

"How is she doing?" the duke asked, glancing over at his daughter.

"Lady Violet is remarkably precocious, Your Grace. She has an excellent understanding for one so young."

The duke glanced over at the small governess. "So do you, Miss Stewart," he noted approvingly.

"I am afraid appearances, in my case, are perhaps somewhat deceiving, sir. I am rather older than I look."

"Would that we were all so blessed, Miss Stewart. You are certainly have a remarkable intellect and accomplishments for one so young. Well, carry on. I leave my child in your capable hands."

"Thank you, Your Grace. She is a pleasure to teach. Well, Lady Violet, shall we begin Chapter Two?"

.

_2012_

There was nowhere left to run. Somehow the soldiers could always find her. They had used technologies the ancient vampire was unfamiliar with, could not understand, to track her, hound her, and eventually corner her in this disused building. She had fought like the demon she was, but to no avail. They had shocked her with painful bolts of electricity, shot from hand-held tasers or from cattle prods. Then they had surrounded her in this building, sealing off every entrance. For two whole days she had not fed, and the vampire was growing increasingly hungry. But she was still powerful, still a force to be reckoned with. She could hear them coming up the stairs now, led by that short stocky American general. They would not get her without a fight. She would never submit to captivity. Never. Not after so long being free…

.

_1781_

The late afternoon sun shone through the ancient yews as the young girl ran laughing over the manicured lawn. Her dark hair shone almost blue against her pure white frock as it caught the rays of sun that filtered through the leaves. A tall man in the livery of a butler suddenly materialized in front of her, standing quietly in the child's path.

"Giles!" she gasped. "You mustn't startle one like that!"

"My apologies, my lady. Her ladyship has requested that you return to the house immediately."

"Oh botheration! What is it this time?"

The merest hint of a smile flickered around the man's mouth. "Perhaps it would be better if you returned immediately, my lady. Her ladyship was most insistent on that matter."

"Wait! Is that today? Oh Giles, is he here? Do please say he is!"

The hint of a smile briefly widened into a larger paternal smile before the butler's face returned to its customary dignified repose. "He is, my lady."

"Oh! Oh! Oh! I can't wait to meet him!" The young girl dashed happily off towards the huge and towering house, its whitewashed walls studded with small windows that reflected its great age. Running inside, she made her way to the drawing room, where her father and mother were gathered, along with a large number of sundry relatives.

"There you at last, Mary!" her father said. "I told you to stay home! Where the dickens have you been?"

"Playing outside, father," she said with a slight pout. "Oh, is that him? May I see him?"

She eagerly moved over to her mother, who was sitting on a settee by the window, carefully cradling a bundle in a white christening robe that flowed to the floor.

"Meet your new brother, Mary," her mother said. "Say hello to the next Earl of Traquair. His name is Charles."

"Hello, Charlie," Lady Mary said quietly, gently stroking the pink skin of her new baby brother. "I'm going to take good care of you, baby brother. Now we are a family…."

* * *

Susan finished her eulogy, then carefully folded up her notes and slipped them into a pocket. Wiping her eyes, the giantess glanced over the small crowd again. For an instant, she thought she saw two familiar figures standing behind everyone else: a tall, elegant brunette woman, and a small young girl with black hair and sparkling blue eyes. The woman winked, and the small girl smiled and waved. Susan rubbed her eyes and looked again, but there was nothing there but the empty desert landscape, red in the glow of the setting sun.

"Goodbye," Susan whispered. "And… thank you. For everything."

.

* * *

**..**

**NOTES**: First up, this is **NOT** the last chapter. Sorry to keep doing this to you all. My chapters have a tendency to run rather long as I keep thinking of things I want to say. In this one I rather indulged my story of Mary's life. The next chapter will be the last one. Promise. Apart from the epilogue.

The title is in Scots Gaelic, and means "Mary's Lament" ("Cridhe" literally means "heart," so it could be "Mary's Heart" as well). "Mairi" is of course Gaelic for "Mary" (Moire is more specifically reserved for the Virgin Mary).

_Griogal Cridhe_ itself is indeed an old Scottish lullaby about a lost love. I very highly recommend you check it out. The top search for the song in YouTube is a lovely recording.

The tune I have in mind for the first song, the "lone violin" one, is Samuel Barber's _Adagio For Strings_, an absolutely haunting piece that I also highly recommend you check out. It's very well known, with good reason. It's quite popular for funerals too, also with good reason.

_All I Have to Do Is Dream_ is a hit song from 1958, the year Nancy died. I've fudged the dates a tiny bit, as it only came out a couple of months before the film about Nancy Archer, but it was a major, major hit back in the day, and I think the "dream" aspect fits well. I added this to give a final moment of pathos to Nancy's story.

I really had little idea about what Susan could say in her eulogy, and then suddenly realised I shouldn't have her say a thing. So instead we get this montage. And I get an excuse to delve into some more social history of the poor in Victorian London...

Had I realised earlier, I'd have had Mary die in 1783. That was the year Laki in Iceland erupted, pouring out an estimated 14 cubic km of basalt lava and clouds of poisonous hydrofluoric acid and sulphur dioxide compounds that killed over 50% of Iceland's livestock population, leading to a famine that killed approximately 25% of the island's human population. The Laki eruption and its aftermath caused a drop in global temperatures, as sulphur dioxide was spewed into the Northern Hemisphere. This caused crop failures in Europe and may have caused droughts in India. The eruption has been estimated to have killed over six million people globally, making the eruption the deadliest in historical times. _The Economist_ has a very good online article on it, called "The summer of acid rain." Anyway, I just wanted to put that out there as it's very cool. But that is why Mary's doctor is talking about miasmas.

I decided that rather than head to London immediately, Mary remained in Scotland a while, unable to cut herself totally off from her past. It doesn't end well...

The 1845 segment draws very heavily on descriptions of the urban poor in Engel's _Condition of the Working Class in England_, published that year. The "Scarcely a whole window-pane" bit, the description of the vegetable market, the contents of Mary's room, and the description of young women huddled under trees are almost verbatim from Engels. The bit about the watercress sellers, however, is taken from Mayhew's _London Labour and the London Poor_, written a few years later, which also contains the bit about the children never crying as it was just no use. I'm going to quote a section here, actually...

_The little watercress girl who gave me the following statement, although only eight years of age, had entirely lost all childish ways, and was, indeed, in thoughts and manner, a woman. There was something cruelly pathetic in hearing this infant, so young that her features had scarcely formed themselves, talking of the bitterest struggles of life, with the calm earnestness of who had endured them all. I did not know how to talk with her. At first I treated her as a child, speaking on childish subjects; so that I might, by being familiar with her, remove all shyness, and get her to narrate her life freely. I asked her about her toys and her games with her companions; but the look of amazement that answered me soon put an end to any attempt at fun on my part. I then talked to her about the parks, and whether she ever went to them. "The parks!" she replied in wonder, "where are they?" I explained to her, telling her that they were large open places with green grass and tall trees, where beautiful carriages drove about, and people walked for pleasure, and children played. Her eyes brightened up a little as I spoke; and she asked, half doubtingly, "Would they let such as me go there—just to look?"_

So sometimes I wonder if I have made Mary's early life a little TOO happy...

By the end of the 19th century, however, Mary had clawed her way out of the pit. Belgravia was established in the 1820s, and was and remains today a stinkingly wealthy part of London, or indeed the world. I hope my Latin grammar is accurate - I had to look that up, as I am not exactly fluent in lingua Latina, and never really understood the grammar at school anyway. After writing this section, I realised that "Violet" was also the name of the Dowager Countess in Downton Abbey, and while I toyed briefly with the idea of having Mary teach the future Countess Grantham, it didn't really fit in my timeline.

The name of the Stewart's butler is a tiny homage to Giles from _Buffy_, which I finally got around to watching, and got ever-so slightly hooked on. Especially after a certain event midway through Season Five which had me basically saying "My god I can't believe they're showing this..." No, I have no plans for Buffy x MvA crossovers. Or at least not at this stage...

And with that we reach the end of another of my patented history and/or science lectures. There _will_ be a test...

Interested to hear what people think about this chapter, for better or worse, and it won't be too long until the final one is posted.

[Posted 19 July 2013]

[Edited August 4: Discovered a major editing snafu: "...And that is my punishment—I can _**never**_ get her forgiveness." Without that "never" the entire meaning is screwed up. I cannot believe I missed that in the dozen times I read this chapter over before posting. Also corrected one instance of "Francis" to "James" - I'd changed the name, but somehow, again, missed this instance. Plus a couple of other minor changes.]


	34. A Love to Possess

**34. A Love to Possess**

The funeral was over, and the assembled guests had finally all dispersed. Susan, however, remained outside, sitting on the ground, looking over the desert night. The night was pitch black, the new moon having set an hour ago. She was not conscious of how much time had passed, and was barely thinking at all. She was filled with an aching emptiness, and didn't even know if she was sad or happy. All she knew was that for some reason, she was feeling a strange sort of contentment. Nancy and Mary were now at rest, and so Susan felt her own soul was finally at peace as well.

"That was so moving, my dear."

Susan didn't turn at the familiar voice. "Yes, it was…" she said softly. "What you said about Nancy…. Thank you. It was perfect."

"Your eulogy was very nice as well," Cockroach noted. "I liked the way you incorporated phrases from _Paradise Lost_."

"Mary started that," Susan explained. "She was always telling me about ruling in hell and serving in heaven."

"Yes, I remember. She rather liked that poem."

"I don't think it's as simple as she made it out to be, however," Susan added. "I mean, it's not a simple case of serve or rule, freedom or imprisonment. There's degrees. Not even the most powerful people on the planet, like the President, can have true freedom, and even a prisoner still retains the freedom of her mind. What matter where, if I still be the same? Like Milton said. There's a huge range of hells and heavens as well."

"And in the lowest deep a lower deep, still threatening to devour me, opens wide, to which the Hell I suffer seems a Heaven…. That's more Milton," Cockroach explained.

"Yeah. Just when you think things can't get worse, they suddenly do," Susan noted sadly. "Don't I know it." She sighed deeply, looking up at the stars. "I'd give anything to wind back the clock, back to before all this… before I became a monster. It's still so hard to lose a friend," she told him, wiping her eyes. "But… I'm so glad I still have you. After all I've done to you…. Please, promise me you'll always be here for me. You're like a rock, an anchor in my life."

"Is that a good thing?" he asked, concerned. "Do I weigh you down?"

Susan laughed lightly, shaking her head, her silver tresses dancing in the starlight. "No, silly. It's because I'd be adrift without you. You keep me from being wrecked in the storms that have been my life lately. Every time I've been scared and alone, you've been so strong and sure. You've always been there for me… even when I haven't been there for you…."

"I haven't been as there for you as much as I should have, I'm afraid," he said quietly. "I was… I was ashamed, too afraid of what you thought of me. I should have been stronger, braver…."

He trailed off, and there was a long silence. Cockroach could hear Susan's breathing, loud in the stillness of the desert night. Eventually she took a deep breath, and then stood to her full magnificent height, an immense black shape towering over him in the darkness.

"Doc, can we go up to the lake?"

"What for, my dear?"

"I… I need to talk. I need to try and make sense of all my feelings. Talk about life and death, friendship and love. Somewhere we can be alone. And… there's something I want to show you."

"For you, my dear, I am always ready to do what I can to help. What do you want to show me?"

"Something…." she told him, stooping and lowering her hand for him.

Cockroach arched an eyebrow, then climbed on and held her thumb carefully as she gently lifted him up, taking a little more care than usual. Susan headed off, her long graceful legs rapidly striding across the base. In a few minutes they had arrived at the small hollow in the hills, where low cliffs encircled the precious body of natural standing water. Cockroach carefully stepped off Susan's palm and gingerly walked a few steps ahead of her towards the small lake, shining dimly in the pale light.

"Very nice. This was a wonderful idea, coming out here at night," he told her, and took a few deep breaths, inhaling the cool, crisp night air. He stood by the water's edge, looking out over the lake, which reflected the galaxy perfectly in its mirror-smooth waters. "What was it you wanted to show me, my dear?"

"This," he heard Susan say.

"The stars are indeed spectacular," he began, then his heart seemed to explode within his thoracic cavity as she moved in front of him, completely and gloriously nude. Her tall smooth body seemed to glow faintly in the dim starlight, towering above him, her hair sparkling silver against the velvet night. "By Franklin's helix," he whispered, his mouth dry.

Susan blushed. "Come on," she told him, stepping carefully into the water. "Lie with me here, floating under the stars."

After a slight hesitation, Cockroach quickly removed his clothing, and walked nervously to the edge of the water, his heart beating intensely, very glad of the darkness. Susan smiled at him, and he felt his knees go weak. If he could, he would have flushed scarlet at the intensity of the gaze from those huge blue eyes. His antennae vibrating rapidly, he walked slowly into the lake, then let himself lie back, floating near Susan's head. He lifted his gaze upwards, seeing the wide band of the Milky Way arching overhead.

"Look at that magnificence," he breathed.

"Me or the stars?" Susan asked.

Cockroach looked over at her, her long naked body floating on the water, and saw her smiling. "The fiery heart of the galaxy itself would be cast into blackest shadow by the blinding blaze of your beauty, my dear…."

Susan felt her face flush, and was glad it was so dark that he wouldn't be able to tell. "Uh, thanks," she said, unable to hide her smile. "But you're right—the stars are amazing out here."

"A magnificent vault, indeed. Susan, see—there's Polaris, the North Star!"

"Where?"

"Over there, to the north, see? At the end of the Little Dipper. About halfway between the Milky Way and the horizon."

"I think I see it," Susan said. "You know, I always wondered—why is it called the Milky Way?"

"It's a very old name," he told her. "The Ancient Greeks called it the Milky Circle, _galaktikos kyklos_, because it looks like a pale white band encircling the sky. And the Greek myths say it was milk spilt by Hera when suckling Hercules."

"Well, no use crying over it, then," Susan joked, a little nervously. There was a short silence. "How long do you think it would take to get to the nearest star?" she asked.

"Even with the technology the Panthalassans have given us? Decades, at least," Cockroach told her.

"Hm. Couldn't they have given us the ability to travel to the stars as well?"

"Perhaps. But they deliberately didn't. It is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves. We can't keep looking to others to solve our problems."

"Yeah, good point," Susan admitted. "I guess we need to walk before we can run. The galaxy is probably a bit big for us right now."

"It's far too big," Cockroach agreed. There was a brief silence. "It's humbling, however. To lie here and contemplate the infinite grandeur of the heavens…. It really makes you realise how petty, how insignificant we are."

Susan let out her breath gently. "You know, I remember, after those photos of me were released, lying down and gazing up at the stars like this with my mother. It really made me feel small."

"Did… did you want to feel small?"

The giantess turned on her side to gaze down at Cockroach. He was barely visible as a smooth, shiny dark shape floating in the inky water, the stars reflected in his huge eyes.

"To be honest… sometimes," she confessed. "Sometimes I did want to be normal. I thought that maybe if I could fit into your world, into your life… you would… well…. I… I guess I was lonely. I felt so isolated. Up there, above you, alone. Unable to properly interact with you all. Then after I… after what I did in Las Vegas... I thought I was ready to return, I really did. I'd told Mary I would be able to handle it. I thought I could. But… I eventually realised it wasn't Ginormica that was the monster, but me. I would just be running away."

"I remember," Cockroach said quietly. "And I remember how I felt when you told me you needed to return to your full size. Afraid… but proud."

"Thank you for not asking me to stay small," Susan whispered.

"I could never ask that of you, my dear."

"Were you afraid I would say no?"

Cockroach shook his head. "I was afraid you would say yes."

Susan touched him gently, stroking his smooth, warm chitin. "I would have said yes, if you had asked me."

"I know," he whispered. "That was why I could not."

"What if I wanted to be small to be with you, to make you happy?" Susan asked softly.

"No," he said emphatically. "It's your power and strength, coupled with your sweetness and vulnerability, that drew me to you, and I would prefer to admire that Susan from afar than take any of it away for my own selfish reasons."

There was a short silence as Susan let her fingertip trail down over his firm, ridged pectorals and abdominals. Cockroach gazed up at her huge form, outlined against the starry night, barely conscious of the passing of time.

"And maybe…" Susan said, her low voice barely audible, "maybe I thought that if… if I was small again, then I could have a normal life again, I wouldn't have to be alone all my life. But then… but then Mary came. And you were spending so much time with her…."

"I was? I suppose I was, at that," Cockroach admitted. "I was just so excited to have someone I could discuss science and history and literature with. It never occurred to me that I might be shutting out my other friends. To be honest, I'm not good at noticing that sort of thing. I hope it didn't upset you, my dear."

"Well, to be honest, it sort of did. It… it made me jealous. I thought she wanted you. And that you wanted her."

"Why ever would you think that?" he asked quietly.

"She was so much better for you than me," Susan told him, her voice catching. "Why would you ever want me when she was such a better fit? Age, size, intellect… What could I ever give you that she could not?"

"Believe it or not, my dear, love is not a mathematical equation. Sometimes I wish it was, but it's much more complicated. Mary was a wonderful friend. I miss her terribly. But I never felt, not for a moment, what I felt towards you the moment I first saw you. You know that you have been the sun around which my life revolves, from the moment you first arrived."

"Oh, come on," Susan said sweetly, feeling very embarrassed. "I'm not that special."

"You are to me," he told her. "When I look at you, I feel this ache in my heart that only your smile can cure. And when you smile at me, hold me, touch me, I feel a happiness and peace I never knew was possible, and never want to lose."

"Why… why did you never tell me?" she whispered.

"How could I? I'm a bug. A freakish, mutated half-insect, half-man monster. Something to hide away in the cellar. No face as hideous as mine was ever meant for heaven's light. But even more than that, I didn't want to risk losing your friendship. I lost it once, and that was unbearable. Even though I completely deserved it, and worse, for what I had done."

"That wasn't you," Susan told him. "That was a real monster; that was Coqueroche. A different person. You are not him."

Cockroach shook his head. "It's so sweet of you to say that, but I'm always afraid that somewhere inside me, the monster is still there. It is only sleeping, not dead. I need constant vigilance to ensure it never awakens."

"I am a monster as well," Susan reminded him. "I have killed innocents. I was court-martialled for it, you remember. Stripped of my rank and sentenced to six months' imprisonment back here." She sighed. "And, like you, I completely deserve it. How can I call you a monster, when I am no better? We have both hurt the innocent. And yet…. And yet, in a strange way, I'm almost glad I did. Because it helped me understand you," she finished, looking down at the man beside her.

"And forgive me," Cockroach added quietly. "For which I am glad."

"I was wrong to blame you, to hate you. I guess I was just taking out my frustrations about my limitations." She sighed. "If only I could forgive myself so easily…."

Suddenly Susan found herself weeping bitterly, her emotions overwhelming her. All the love, loss, hope and sadness of the last few weeks filled her heart, and she could no longer keep them bottled down. Everything that had happened over the past fortnight suddenly crashed down on her, and the giantess sat up, bowing her head on her knees, and let the pain flow, undammed.

"Grief is the price we pay for love. And if I could weep with you, my dear, I would," Cockroach said with feeling. He stood up and held her finger tightly. "I'm afraid I might not be quite the rock you see me as. I've seldom been as calm as I pretended to be. Sometimes I've been scared, terrified beyond reason. And sometimes… sometimes I've had to fight to keep my feelings in check. There's been so many times I've wanted to tell you what I feel… how I feel…."

"About what?" Susan asked, raising her head to look down at him, her heart loud in her chest, her blood roaring in her ears.

Cockroach looked shyly up at her, then away again, as if he could not face the sight. "I've never been good at expressing my feelings," he admitted. "Sometimes I've tried to pretend I don't have any. It used to make dealing with people's rejection and hatred easier. But… the truth is I'm afraid of emotions—afraid of their power, afraid that they'll take me over, destroy my rationality, which I used to prize above all else. Until… until I found a greater treasure, something I prize even more," he finished, turning his huge amber eyes on her.

"What is it you prize most now?" Susan asked, her throat suddenly dry.

"Do you really need to ask?" he whispered softly.

Susan shook her head slowly, her heart pounding. She curled her fingers around him, gently scooping him up as she stood up straight, the water cascading off her tall bare body. Gradually she brought him closer and closer to her face, to her lips. His antennae tickled her nose as she kissed him as close to his mouth as she could. She could just detect his own mouth on her bottom lip, feel his hands stroke her skin. She let her lips trail up the side of his face, gently brushing it, then gently touched his mouth with the tip of her tongue.

"For I am dying of such love," he whispered, " or so it seems to me…."

Susan wiped a tear away. "I want to be with you. No… I _need_ to be with you."

"You know we can never have a normal physical relationship," he told her sadly.

She nodded, tears of happiness flowing unchecked down her cheeks. "I know," she whispered. "For so long, I thought being… being a giantess would mean I could never love. And every time I thought I was falling in love with you, I tried to tell myself it wasn't happening. That it was crazy, wanting a love I could never physically have. But now, I know… the physical side, making love— that's not so important: the important thing is to have someone to love. You mean so much to me. I… I just want to be able to be in love. And nothing else matters."

Susan kissed him again, holding him carefully as she gently stroked him with the fingertips of her other hand, feeling the smooth, firm curves of his body. This was as physically intimate as she would ever be, and yet, somehow, it was enough: they were bound by the far deeper, richer, stronger ties of emotional love, finally giving her a love she truly could possess.

.

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* * *

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**A FEW NOTES**: Well, that's the last chapter, finally. I hope to add an epilogue soon, a sort of dénouement, and set up a few threads for the next volume in the Susan Saga, though there are a couple of one-offs I want to write before any sequels.

There aren't really any factual notes to reference here, other than that Cockroach's explanations about the Milky Way and his use of Milton are accurate. His last line, about "dying of such love," is the continuation of the Sapphos poem I had him quote when he saw Susan a giant again, taken, this time, directly from the Xena poem. "Franklin's helix" refers to Rosalind Franklin, who was instrumental in discovering the structure of DNA.

Anyway, while the epilogue is yet to come, this marks the end of the main story. I hope the ending does not disappoint, and that the effort required to plough through all 160,000-odd words was worth it. Comments, critiques, and even complaints are welcome, as I'd love to hear what people think does or does not work. And to everyone who made it this far, thanks for reading!


	35. Epilogue - The Very Part of You

**Epilogue: The Very Part of You**

.

That night Susan lay awake, the events of the evening chasing through her mind. It had all happened so fast. She wasn't sure what had prompted her to take the Doc up to the lake, and let him see her like that, completely open and vulnerable. See how much she trusted him. How much she needed him. She had spent so much time trying to deny her feelings, hoping they weren't what she was afraid they were, but when she finally allowed herself to fully give into them, they had given her such pure, undiluted happiness. She felt like she was flying, soaring, like in a dream. It was almost as if she had made an unspoken promise to Mary not to close herself off, not to let the monster within her rule the person. She was… she was finally able to admit she was in love, and this time, she knew, it wasn't some high school crush; she wasn't some trophy or decorative appendage. Their relationship had been thoroughly tested; they had seen the worst of each other, and somehow, Susan knew, none of it mattered any more.

Her mind in a whirl, she watched as the clock numbers slowly changed, wishing she still had access to her computer or television or something. Eventually she got up, wrapped her sheet around her, and poked her head out the door. She stepped into the main common room, and smiled as she saw Cockroach sitting at his desk, his lamp the only light source in the huge room.

He turned as she approached, his eyes wide and luminous as he took in her barely-concealed form, the sheet doing little to hide her curves. "Susan, my dearest," he said, standing up abruptly and knocking over a delicately-assembled experiment. "Can't sleep either, I see…."

Susan leaned over his lab, resting her head in her elbows, and smiled down at him. "Too much excitement, I guess." She held out a finger, and he kissed it with a low bow.

"A lot's changed," he agreed.

"A lot. My whole universe has changed. Again..." Susan sighed. "But this time, very much for the better," she added with a smile.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not sure. I mean, I'm not sure there's that much to say. I think in a way we're beyond words." She took a deep breath, her expression relaxed and happy. "Or perhaps I just can't find the right words." She inclined her head to one side, resting it on her arm, and looked over at the scientist. Stretching out her other hand, she let him hold her finger. "You know what this reminds me of? That night in DC, in my tent. When we talked together after the awards ceremony, just the two of us."

"Oh, I remember it very well indeed," he assured her. "I have thought about that night many times since."

"So have I," Susan admitted, turning a little pink.

Cockroach looked down at her finger, stroking it gently. "It was such sweet torture to be so close to you. To be unable to tell you how I felt. Or know what you felt at all. Because I could not let myself believe that anyone would ever look on me, on this monster that I am, with love."

"No need to worry about that now," she said, smiling. "I think even back then I was definitely starting to see you as, well, more than just a friend. I tried not to. I was a little confused, I guess. But it was too soon after Derek though, and I didn't want to risk getting burned again."

"I would never do that to you, my love. I could never hurt you," he said. "At least… not deliberately."

"I… I wish I could say the same," she said, biting her lower lip firmly, unable to meet his gaze. She sighed, and wiped a tear from her eye. "I never want to hurt you again. Or anyone. Not like that." She paused, and looked at her five-foot long hand lying on the floor by Cockroach's desk. If she wanted, she could crush his steel desk between her fingers without the least effort. Just the merest squeeze would flatten it. Would flatten almost anything…. She shuddered, trying to think about happier things.

"Let's not talk about Nancy, or Vegas," he told her. "Who we once were is not who we are now."

Susan nodded. "Let's make a new beginning, starting from last night at the lake. No more secrets, no more lies, no more anger. We need to let ourselves love one another, without reservation."

Cockroach looked up at her, his huge amber eyes almost seeming to glow with reflected light. "Ah, but I always have," he murmured.

Susan smiled, then her face grew serious again. "You remember, back in DC, I was talking about how my mother said there were no real monsters, not really? But then I said we were real monsters: you, me, Link, Bob, Insecto. I was wrong then. I didn't really understand. It's not this sort of monster we should fear," Susan said, gesturing to her fifty-foot body. "It's the sort we can't see. The sort in here," she finished, pointing to her heart. "And when we act like monsters, it's not because of what we look like on the outside, it's because of who we are inside."

"That's what we all have to deal with, as monsters. Or even as humans," Cockroach said quietly. "It's the eternal struggle between the beauty and the beast."

"Yeah. That's what I've had to realise. That's what I had to accept, before I could truly accept being Ginormica."

"And you have, now?" Cockroach asked, a tinge of concern in his voice.

Susan smiled. "Well, there's no going back now. Ever." She paused, lost in thought for a moment. "And you know, somehow that makes it seems so much more real. Like, when I first came, I was always hoping to have the quantonium removed, then later, even though I was happy being Ginormica, I still knew that it could be removed. So it was never truly a part of me, not if it could just be taken out and put back in like… uh…."

"Bob's eye?"

"No!" Susan laughed. "I mean, well, sort of. It wasn't really me, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, perfectly, I assure you."

"Yeah, and now…. Now it's as much a part of me as my heart, my muscles, my bones; it can't ever come out. It's the very part of me that makes me, me. And so... for the first time I really feel as if I am not wearing a costume. That I really am Ginormica…."

"I know… somethin' about love…. You've gotta want it bad!"

"What is that dreadful noise?" Link asked, looking up from his magazine a few days later and catching sight of the giantess dancing across the common room. She spotted his gaze, and moved across to him, her huge feet thumping on the reinforced concrete floor as she pirouetted.

"If you want him to be… the very part of you…" Susan sang loudly, bending down close to the green fish-ape, a huge smile on her face. "That makes you want to breathe…."

"Do you have to do that here? Now?" Link growled, glowering up at Susan.

"Ever since the world began, it's been that way," Susan sang, then gave him a quick kiss on the top of his head.

"Why on earth are you so happy?" Link asked, quickly wiping his head with a grimace.

"Is it your birthday?" Bob asked. "I love birthdays! Oh, Link, remember that birthday I had when we played piñata with the plane?"

"Only too well," Link replied bitterly. "And it's not her birthday. That's in November. Now get off the table!" He pushed at the blue blob, but only managed to embed his arm in Bob's cytoplasmic matrix. "So why are you so happy-clappy, Giny?" he added, looking back up at Susan.

"Pooh! Why are you so grumpy?" Susan asked him, trying to pout and not entirely succeeding in preventing a wide grin from taking over.

"I ain't grumpy," he shot back. "I'm just trying to read the latest issue of _Surfer_ in peace."

"Hey, I'm sorry," Susan said, not sounding sorry at all. "I'm just feeling rather…" She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "…happy with my life."

"You've been all soppy and smoochy with Doc, yeah, we know. You haven't exactly been discrete about it."

"Oh come on, you're not jealous are you? Uh…. You're not jealous, are you?" she repeated, this time with a tinge of concern in her voice, looking a little surprised.

"You love Doc?" Bob asked Link, his eye wide.

Link rolled his eyes and ignored the blue blob. "Of course I'm not jealous of you," he said. "I think it's great you two finally acknowledged what was staring you both in the face for weeks. I just wish you… you wouldn't be so in _my_ face about it."

Susan's expressive face immediately changed to showing deep concern. "Oh, Link, I'm so sorry. I never realised—I mean, I never stopped to think. I'm sorry, I am. I wish there was someone for you. I really do."

"Nah, it ain't that, Giny. I know there isn't another one like me out there. Anything remotely like me died out God knows how many aeons ago."

"I… I know. I should have been more… more considerate. I've just been too caught up in my own, well…." Susan sat down, her expression serious. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry. I let my happiness get away from me a bit."

"Now wait a mo' there, sister," Link told her sternly. "I never said you shouldn't be happy. You deserve it as much as any of us—hell, more than any of us. I'm not resentful of your happiness. Not for a minute, and don't you dare think I am. You and Doc go together like chalk and cheese. Like oil and water. Like fish fingers and custard."

Susan bit at her finger, looking puzzled. "Um, I'm not quite sure if what you said is what you meant. Fish fingers and custard?"

"Ooh, yum!" Bob exclaimed. "Is that what we're having for dinner?"

Susan laughed. "Never mind. I get what you mean. And thanks."

"Yeah, well, I don't have a lot of comparisons, but he's a ton better than Derek the Jerk," Link admitted. "But if he hurts you, I'll kill him."

"I don't think you'll have to quite that far," Susan told him.

"Yeah, well…. I just don't want…." He trailed off, and resumed staring at his magazine fixedly.

"Don't you dare break up with us!" Bob called sternly.

"Huh? Break up with you? But I'm not…. Oh." Susan's face fell as she realise what the blue blob meant. "Oh. No. No, no, no. This is so not going to affect us at all. You, me, Link, Doc, Insecto…. We're a team, we're gonna stay a team. Okay, I've been spending a lot of time with Doc lately, but come on, I'm not going to neglect you! Any of you!"

"Nah, I know you won't," Link told her. "You're cool, Giny. I'm just an old hairy fish. Don't mind my grumpiness. I just don't want anyone getting hurt."

Susan bent down and gave him another quick peck on his head before he could react. "Never! You guys are all too important to me for that."

"Ginormica! You have a visitor!"

Susan turned as Monger's amplified voice suddenly boomed across the common room.

"Amy!" Susan called happily as Monger's jeep drove in with the young girl beside him. Then she felt her heart skip a beat as she wondered what her friend must think of her now. How could she ever regain the young girl's trust, after everything she had done?

"Uh, hello, Susan," Amy said a little shyly, waving briefly as Monger pulled up.

"Hi Amy. I'm really glad you came, you know," Susan said, bending down on one knee. "I was, you know, kinda hoping we could talk. I was afraid that after what happened, you know, in... in Vegas… that you would think I…. That I was a monster again."

Amy glanced quickly at Monger, then looked back at Susan again. "I…. It was… it was scary, seeing it on the news," she admitted. "I couldn't believe it, when I saw… when I saw you. I didn't want to. But… it was true, wasn't it?"

Susan nodded, blinking back a few tears. "I'm so, so sorry I disappointed you, Amy. I wanted to be a good role model for you, a bit like a big sister. But I failed, dreadfully." She sat down cross-legged on the floor, and idly picked at some of the stitching on her jumpsuit, not meeting the other girl's eyes. "I… I got put on trial and thrown in jail. I'm now a real prisoner, a proper prisoner, because I'm a… a criminal. A… killer." She choked back a sob, and took a deep breath. She would not give in to self-pity, she told herself sternly. And especially not in front of Amy. She had no right to pity herself. None.

"I'll leave you for now," Monger told them, cutting into Susan's thoughts. "Back in one hour, Miss Marshall."

"Thank you General, sir," Amy said, and Susan saluted as he drove off.

"You know, I don't know if I ever properly thanked you for what you said about me on Wolf News that time," Susan said softly. "It really… it really meant a lot to me. Your support really helped me when I was feeling pretty depressed."

"I just…. I thought someone should stick up for you," Amy told her. "Back when people were being so mean about, well, you know. General Monger arranged it, through Dad, when I asked why they didn't have any of your friends on the TV."

"It was really brave of you," Susan said. "You were amazing."

"I was just doing what friends do," Amy said, blushing scarlet.

"Do you… do you think we can still be friends?" Susan asked quietly. "I mean, I'll understand if you're scared of me now, or don't trust me…."

Amy shook her head. "I'm a little scared, to be honest. I mean, after seeing how, um, strong you are. But I know you only got mad because your friend was killed. So you sort of had a reason. But I know you're not really like that. Not normally. I don't think you'd try to hurt me or anything."

Susan shook her head emphatically. "Never! And if anyone ever tried, I'd…." She stopped abruptly. "Well, I wouldn't let them," she finished, cracking a slight self-deprecating smile. Wanna come up?" she added, holding her palm out.

"Sure!" Amy climbed on and held tight as Susan carefully lifted her up. "Wow, I forgot how cool this was!" she shouted. "Higher!"

"My pleasure," Susan said with a smile, stretching to her full height. "And I mean it. It's nice to be able to use my size to make people happy." She carefully set Amy down near the table, and took her own seat. "So, uh…. How's things been since the alien ship crashed. Everyone okay?"

"Okay, I guess. We've been living underground, in temporary barracks," Amy explained. "It kinda sucks."

"Just like us!" Bob exclaimed. "We live underground too!"

Amy's face fell. "Uh, sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. I guess you all do live underground."

"Nah, don't worry about it," Susan said. "It was hard to get used to at first for me too."

"So, what brings you here today my dear?" Cockroach asked, handing Amy a mug of cocoa and taking a cup of Darjeeling for himself.

"I know! The General did! In his jeep! Right?" Bob asked excitedly.

"Technically, I guess he did," Susan laughed. Then her expression turned serious. "But Amy's here so we can—well, I guess she's here so I can tell her how sorry I am to have disappointed her."

Cockroach dumped half a dozen teaspoons of sugar into his tea, and stirred it. He sipped at his sweet tea, then put the cup down. "Amy, my dear…. I know Susan very well. I know you have nothing to fear from her, ever."

Amy shook her head. "No, I know she wouldn't. I was just a little nervous before coming that… well, I was mainly worried that I'd be afraid of you," she finished, looking up at her huge friend. "But for some reason I'm not. Not at all. I just can't see you as… as that sort of person. I just can't see you as a monster."

Susan glanced at Cockroach, and sighed. "I wish I'd been as mature as you, Amy," she said. "I wish I'd been able to see only the person, not the monster. But the last few weeks…. I've only been able to see the monster. In me, in Doc, in my other friends. I couldn't see past the monster…."

"I used to think it would be so cool to be you," Amy said quietly. "Now…. Now I guess it is kinda hard to be a giantess."

Susan shook her head. "It was never about being a giantess. I mean, not as such. Not the size thing. It was about dealing with the power and strength I had—I have. I found it hard… harder than I realised. I didn't know just how badly I was coping until I—I, er, lost control."

"But you're okay now, right?"

Susan smiled. "Yeah. I think so. I'm learning how to control, uh, things. Learning discipline," she finished quietly, thinking of Mary's comment. "I have to, if I'm to be this big."

"The General told me you were made small again by the aliens. Didn't you want that? Don't you miss being able to, you know, just do normal things?"

Susan shook her head. "No, I don't mind. Not really. Yeah, I lose some things. But they're mostly not very important things. Crap like shopping and fashion—all the things I thought I missed about being Ginormica. Things like not being in charge of my own life. Less privacy, modesty. But there are so many more important things, so many things I have gained."

"So you don't ever want to be normal-sized again?" Amy asked.

"Nope. In fact, the aliens have made it so I can never get small again. I'm going to be fifty feet for the rest of my life." Susan leaned back on her sofa, her hands behind her head. "Well forty-nine feet, eleven inches, technically, but over fifty in heels. Any heels," she joked. "It's a big, big world, but I'm a big, big girl." She paused. "It's weird, really. I mean, I'm pretty sure the amount of quantonium in me now isn't the same as the initial amount, since we got it from the Romebot, but I'm still the same size. Precisely nine times bigger. Doc reckons it's some sort of constant: a given amount of quantonium will always make someone exactly nine times bigger. Trouble is, he has no idea how much is required."

"Do you think the aliens know?"

Susan nodded. "I bet they do. I bet there's a ton of stuff they know about it that they're not sharing."

Amy looked surprised. "They don't trust us?"

"Nope. They basically think we're half-savages. Shooting down their explorer ship back in '47 didn't help. And I guess we were a little too, uh, direct about rescuing the President, wrecking their ship and all. In fact it was only as we stayed behind to repair the reactor and rescue the bridge crew as well that they're even talking with us."

"One of the aliens is here in the base, right?" Amy asked. "Daddy told me."

"Yup. His name's Xalthazar. He's… okay, I guess. He's nice enough, but a bit snobby. We don't see him much, 'coz he's got his own quarters. But he and Doc have been working together a bit."

Amy grinned. "So anyway, you and the Doc…."

"Yeah, me and the Doc. Or Jacques, I guess. I suppose I should call him by his name, now that we've, uh, now that we're…."

"So… you two kissed?"

Susan glanced at Cockroach, who was making a big show of carefully reading a book, and laughed. "Yeah, we kissed. Which is all you need to know at this stage, Amy."

"Oh, I never get to hear about the fun stuff!"

Susan laughed. "Well, I can tell you that I'm glad he's very strong: I can hold him much harder than a normal human, which is good, because sometimes I just want to hug him and squeeze him and kiss him and… I think that's about enough about that for now."

Cockroach's antennae vibrated strongly, and Link almost choked into his coffee. Susan shot him a quick glare.

"I wonder what sort of guy I'll end up with…" Amy mused.

"Whoever it is, make sure you love him for who he is, not what he is. I was engaged to a man that turned out to be a monster. And now I am in love with a monster who is a wonderful man. A man who can love a monster…."

"Ah, but you, my dear, are not a monster but an angel," Cockroach told her.

"I thought we were all monsters?" Bob asked, looking confused.

"We're all people," Susan told him firmly.

"What's the difference?" Bob asked.

"This," Susan told him, bending down and gently kissing the top of Bob's head.

"Spittle? Lips?"

"No, silly. Love. That's the difference between a monster and a person. It's how we act, not what we look like. And when we act like monsters, it's not because of what we look like on the outside, it's because of who we are inside."

"So who are you on the inside?" Bob asked.

Susan's smile faded. "I'm not sure yet. So many things have happened to me. But I do know this," she continued, her voice gaining strength. "As long as I have my friends with me, I'll never be a monster again."

"Monsters!"

Susan looked around in surprise as the cyborg suddenly flew in. "What is it, General?"

"The world needs you again, again!"

The general landed and activated the new operations panel. It rose smoothly out of the area below Cockroach's lab as the other monsters assembled in front of it. The central screen showed a map of Europe, with a blinking dot to one side.

"Seems a snail fell into a French nuclear reactor. As we speak, Escargantua is sloowwwly making its way to Paris!" Monger finished with a dramatic pose, and Susan looked around at her friends with a smile.

"Well, I've always wanted to go to Paris. Now who's with me?"

"Yay, another plane trip!" Bob cried.

"We all are, of course!" Link told her. "One for all!"

"And all for one," Cockroach added, looking up at her tenderly. "Always…."

"Yes…" Susan said softly. "I know…."

She straightened up and stretched, for a moment seeing her friends down on the living area, small, like living dolls again. But then she blinked and only saw them as they were, as people, as her friends, equal in size to her in everything that mattered. She finally knew that her size meant nothing in her relationship with them, and never really had. She finally felt completely normal, completely accepted. Her only regret was that it had taken so much pain and suffering to make her realise that she always had been.

. . .

THE END

...

* * *

**WORDM'S NOTES**: First off, big apologies for the huge delay. This was very hard to write, as initially I was going to introduce a number of themes that I wanted to treat in the sequel to this, and it took some time to think of what they might be. However, since I have not really even made a start on outlining the sequel, I decided I better not lock myself into anything I might regret. I was also going to introduce a new monster in this part, but again, that was running long and ended up working better in the next story. So on the plus side, the first two chapters of the sequel are largely written...

Not a lot of factual notes behind this. "Fish fingers and custard" is of course taken from Dr. Who. The title, and the song Susan sings, you should (?) all recognise from the song sung in the movie when Susan is getting ready for the wedding.

And really that is that. I have a few ideas for other stories, including a couple of short ones, so I am pretty sure you haven't seen the last of me here. In the meantime, thanks for everyone who read it this far, especially my generous reviewers and favouriters, and I hope it was nearly as fun to read as it was to write. So, as they say with Bond movies...

GINORMICA WILL RETURN...


End file.
